


Division

by Doug48



Category: Sunderance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Drama & Romance, F/M, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Police Procedural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doug48/pseuds/Doug48
Summary: This is a different Zootopia. Foxes rule the city, rabbits are banned, and Judy Hopps is an experienced defense attorney. What happens when Judy comes to Zootopia to defend a convicted murderer named Otterton?Division is an alternate universe compared to Sunderance, but separated only by a few different choices. I'd like to think the characters are [mostly] the same.Some cussing, some death, but not graphic.
Relationships: Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde
Kudos: 29





	1. Introduction of this Nickolas Wilde

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sunderance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920358) by [Kulkum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kulkum/pseuds/Kulkum). 



I was watching the news on TV when I saw the rabbit. I knew who she was, and I know the news is meant to either entertain or outrage, and not inform, but my mind needed more than merely music on which to focus because I was practicing. This time, I found myself focusing too much, even though I was not especially surprised to see her image this evening.

“I am confident that someone will do the right thing and volunteer to help me,” Judy Hopps was saying. She's in front of some official structure or other, probably the Bunnyborough city hall. “I am going to prove-“

I don’t think that's very likely, now. The Administrator may have granted her the right to enter the city, but my sister didn’t say she was assigning any guards, so most mammals here will assume intimidation or murder is perfectly acceptable. A negative outcome might even desired, even if only unofficially. The kind of mammals that arranged to put Otterton in jail are going to want him to stay there, and if they have to remove an out of town, rabbit, lawyer? They'll see it as a bonus. 

“Looks like you’re going to die, carrot muncher,” I muttered, and went back to my interrupted routine. I was doing punches and kicks, again and again, and soon found myself with a sore paws, sore feet, and a ruined target after I got a little too out of control. Honestly, I might as well have used one of my weapons. 

“Damn bunny,” I said, and looked at the drink which was, as always, full. 

So? Now I care about what happens? Is it because, like my sister all those years ago, this lawyer is full of child like hope and optimism? I swore to protect Neveen when I was nine years old; but our parents disappeared and Neveen blamed me. 

The Wildes are all missing, presumed dead, because bodies were not found, and trails went cold. My sister disappeared by changing her name and going into politics. I did the same thing by going to work for the mob, but I never bothered to change my name. 

Turning back to the TV again, I see it still on the same story, but now the news anchors are speculating about the outcome of Judy's appeal. Couple of talking heads, airheads, reading words written by someone else. They don’t know anything.

Fuck it. The TV had a number to call, she says she's still coming, and there is no reason to wait any longer to see if someone else will volunteer. I turn off the TV, and hit the appropriate buttons on my audio phone, expecting voicemail. She'll call back, or I'll-

“This is Hopps,” her voice says, instead, sounding very businesslike. 

“I can protect you,” I tell her. Might as well get to the point immediately.

“Oh, you saw the interview? Who are you?” The lawyer asked, clearly trying to gain control of the conversation. 

“You sounded somewhat frustrated on TV," I replied. "I know you've been hitting the phones, trying to get someone to volunteer to help you. 

"Tell me. Have you tried Finnic yet? No one else would help you, but I expect you know his price?”

Finnic and I are old friends, and we've done favors for each other in the past. He hasn't said anything about an arrangement with Ms. Hopps, and I think he would have brought me in on the deal, at least as the on the street muscle. Or I might have heard from someone else? Finn doesn't keep a very low profile and doesn't much care what other mammals think of him or the nature of his business.

“No, I haven’t called him, and you didn’t answer my question.”

“I'm a friend and I saw the interview,” I replied, deliberately misunderstanding what she actually wanted to know. "I can help by providing the protection you need, but there is an important, non-negotiable condition. I’ll need to be with you at all times.”

“Oh really?” She asked. Now, her voice sounded much more skeptical. “At all times? Seems like a great deal of work. How much is your friendly and constant company going to cost me?”

“Cost is not important. We can talk about it when you’re in the city, after you make your first court appearance tomorrow morning,” I said.

“No, that’s not how this works-“

“You don’t know how this works. You don’t have a bodyguard, and you must know that out of town lawyers, especially rabbits, need guards if they're going to come to Zootopia and upset the plans for Mr. Otterton.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, but I wasn’t sure if she meant she didn’t need a guard, or if she was agreeing that she didn’t know what she was doing. Hiring a competent body guard is not something a lawyer from Bunny Borough would normally know how, or need, to do. “You won’t tell me your price, you won’t give me your name, and you make unreasonable demands. This conversation-“

“They will get you, carrot farmer. You can hope they won’t, but rabbits are banned from the city, so you’ll be the only one and therefore very easy to find," I said, but then I realized that I might be trying too hard, too soon. There'll be time enough for appropriate warnings later, so I soften my words and my tone. 

"You have to accept my help. You can trust me,” I continued. And then I realized I was talking to myself. She had hung up on me.

I didn’t expect that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February 19, 2020: I looked on the Patreon page and Sunderance is still going. I was worried for awhile!  
> March 5, 2020: I'll wait a little while longer before posting Chapter 2. I'd rather read the next chapter of Sunderance than write my own version here.


	2. On the Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy talk on the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! "Sunderance" updated on that other website, but not this one, and I got tired waiting and wrote another one of my chapters.

The next morning found me in a specially chartered train car on the way to Bunny Borough, outbound from Zootopia. Rabbits don’t enter Zootopia, but other mammals travel through by train. Bunny Borough was only one stop in the line anyway, and there was always cargo. Food, manufactured goods, and that sort of thing.

I was alone in the passenger car, so I could have stood, sat, or leaned anywhere. However, I wanted to be where she would sit, after she boarded, so I picked the observation dome. I knew the train would not turn around and I didn’t want to move, so I sat at the rear on the trip from Zootopia.

The stop in Bunny Town was not as brief as I would’ve liked. There were things to load and unload, routine maintenance, and, apparently, Judy Hopps getting on the train was some sort of public event. I listened, and watched a short while. I might’ve spent more time watching, but I didn’t want the other rabbits, probably relatives or at least friends, to see me, and then, probably, tell her not to get on a train with a fox. 

I need to warn her, also, even though I don’t actually want her to stay home. It doesn't really matter. She’ll come anyway.

I think I want her to win her case. To prove there is still justice, even though I don’t really expect such a positive outcome. I expect her to get a runaround, several delays, and at least one assassination attempt, probably later today. Some will hope that she’ll give up, and others will do more than hope. They know that they can’t let her win because there would be questions that they won't be able to answer or ignore. If Otterton didn't murder his wife, then who did? And who paid the killer?

Finally, the train starts moving again, back toward Zootopia, and so I wait for her scent. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize-,” she starts to say when she sees me. There is a brief pause when she realizes that a fox, and a red one at that, is waiting for her, but then she finishes in a much less positive tone, “that I wasn’t alone.” 

She probably heard me, but only after I smelled her. I knew who she was, and she didn’t know who I am. She didn’t know that I’m a fox, in other words.

I turned from the window to look more fully at her. Ears draped down her back. Well dressed, like on the TV. One suitcase. No hat. No weapons that I can see, but she probably has one in her jacket, judging by the way her right paw twitched, very slightly, up and inward.

She does not retreat. She draws herself up, ears rising and focusing on me, back straightening, trying to look more confident and in control. It’s a pretty good act, but her scent is far less certain.

“I don’t know who you are, but I have written permission from Administrator Kyubi herself, so you, and whoever sent you, can give up thinking I’m going to. To give up,” she says, revealing, by her choice of words, how nervous she is and how little she really knows about the city. Red foxes like me don’t get ‘sent’ anywhere. I agreed to help, and that's very different.

“You should,” I replied, and I saw recognition of my voice in the way her ears moved and her eyes narrowed. “Give up and go back home. The train will stop in the City, but you don’t have to get off. You can wait, and then go back to Bunny Town when the train returns to its regular run.”

“So you’re the voice on the phone. Mr. ‘I can protect you’? I didn’t expect someone like you,” she says. Most rabbits believe that Zootopia is ruled by foxes in general, and red foxes in particular. They call the city the ‘Fox's Den,’ and they're not far wrong.

“I am a mammal of many mysteries,” I told her.

She glares at me, and so I wait. I knew she would not retreat, but I wondered what she would do after she saw that I was in the spot she wanted. How will she react to this sort of minor provocation? 

She asks a question, like the lawyer she is. “What is your name?”

“Nick,” I tell her. I wasn’t sure what to say if she asked for my family name, but she doesn’t. My family used to be famous, and I really don't want to discuss it. We're still wealthy. 

“I saw you with your family before you boarded. That little one? Is he one of your brothers? He’s cute,” I informed her, to avoid the inevitable follow up question. 

“Don’t call him cute,” she replied, angry now. Ears up, posture slightly forward, and scent becoming more harsh.

“Oh yeah, rabbits don’t like that,” I replied, still trying to provoke her. “It’s just a word, Ms. Hopps. Don’t let it bother you.”

“Oh, just a word? What if I called you sly or shifty? That’s hate speech where we’re going, last I heard,” she said.

“I am sly,” I replied, gesturing. “And shifty, sneaky, and not especially trustworthy. I’m a fox! That’s what we are. 

“Elephants are huge, foxes are sneaky, weasels are… Well, they’re weasels,” I said, shrugging. “And some bunnies are cute, especially the little, fluffy ones. There is no reason to be ashamed of what you are.”

“And that’s all you notice? Cute? And you think it’s a good thing to diminish someone like that?” The lawyer replied.

“So, we can at least agree that he’s cute,” I replied, and watched her getting more angry. It’s understandable. I’m sure she did not expect this kind of debate, with a fox, on the train this morning. “Have a seat. It’s a long trip.”

She sat, but only close enough to keep an eye on me. She put her suitcase on her other side, away from me, as if I might grab it, and, possibly, sell it on the black market or rummage through her unmentionables. She adjusts her jacket, and I find myself noticing that bulge in her pocket again. Probably a Taser, and she probably does not know how to use it. No reason to use such a thing way out here.

Time passes, and I wait for her to speak. She has no book to read and does not pretend to look at her phone or listen to music so I know she’ll get bored staring out the windows eventually. The superior view is another reason I chose this seat.

“Why are you doing this?” She asks, eventually.

“Doing what? I’m just riding a train, like any mammal on vacation. Figured I’d see some sights. 

“I heard there’s a celebrity coming to town. A rabbit!” I told her, gesturing toward her, and then pretending to count the fingers of one paw. "Maybe I'll ask for an autograph. 

“Later, I have an appointment in court and then I figured I’d take a walk, ride in the car, visit a friend…”

She stares at me like I'm crazy. “If it’s money you want-“ 

“No,” I replied. “I am aware of your financial situation, so please assume I’m doing this because I want to do this, if that makes you feel any better. It’s the truth.”

Again, I get that intense look from her. She’s clearly wondering what I’m up to. I’m a fox and she's a rabbit, so she knows I'm not telling her everything. Maybe-

“If you don't want money from me, then you must be getting paid by someone else. Did the administrator send you?” She asks, interrupting my musings. Of course, that would be what she expects. Maybe she does know more about the City than I thought? No other mammal could send me, but the rabbit is digging in the wrong hole, this time.

“No. I don’t work for her now and I never have. Sometimes we trade emails, but we seldom meet for tea.” I said, mainly to avoid the question of who else might, or might not, be paying me. She doesn’t ask for clarification, but I know she’ll remember exactly what I said. She will probably bring it up again later to get me to give her more details that, taken together, will bring her closer to the truth. I just have to be careful what I say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my version, Nick doesn't get off the train, and he doesn't try to scare her. To me, it's mostly a matter of logical following actions. She had hung up on him in my first chapter, so she might simply walk past him, either before or after he threatens her on the platform, and then what does he do? Shrug his shoulders and follow her, to the general amusement of every rabbit watching? It just doesn't work for me. 
> 
> Also, I don't think he would threaten her. I think he does want her to come to the city, and what if she wasn't armed? So, in my version, he waits for her on the train, and doesn't move toward her when they see each other.
> 
> Also, in my version, Nick admits to a closer relationship to the Administrator sooner, even if he does imply that he doesn't actually trade emails with her. In the comic, you do see at least one email that she sends him. "Your results are excellent."


	3. Near the Courthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Nick expected, somebody tries something

The train stopped at the station on schedule, and Judy Hopps picked up her suitcase and headed for the door without, I noticed, looking at me. I followed. The courthouse was within easy walking distance and so that’s what we did. She walked ahead and I watched the mammals nearby. I saw several of them see her, start toward us, notice me looking, and then stop. 

The courthouse is as I remembered it; a big marble structure that I rarely visit. There is usually nothing here that I want.

Judy went in and presented her identification at the reception desk. She passed through the metal detector, without activating the alarm, and I followed, again with no alarm. The guards probably turned it off when they saw me so that they would need to ask no questions when one of my weapons triggers the alarm. When this sort of thing happens, it's usually because they think I'm on official business, and they’re not sure, precisely, what my relationship is with the fox administrator. She’s never told anyone about any relatives, and nobody ever asks. 

Judy presented her appeal and I stood beside her. I noticed a few differences between the version she presented to Chief Justice Bellweather and the version I heard on the news at the time. The rabbit had no notecards. Later I would discover that she practices endlessly before every testimony. The lamb granted the rabbit's request for retrial. This may, or may not, have had to do with the absence of opposing counsel.

“Are you really going to follow me around all day?” She asked after her presentation. We were in one of the courthouse hallways, all marble flooring and several, official looking, very solid, doors to the left and right. She had probably thought I’d be excluded from the courthouse, and so she would be able to get away from me.

“As I’ve said before, I’m not actually following you. We both just happen to be going the same way,” I said. Then I continued before she could object. 

“No one has tried anything yet, but there are many mammals here that seem to be just a little too interested. Somebody will try something soon.”

She glared at me, and then looked away and shook her head. I watched the throng of reporters outside, knowing that Judy could hear them. 

“I’ll lead, okay?” I suggested. 

“Fine,” she replied, as I picked up her suitcase. She nearly said something else, but didn’t. Her scent was now irritated, but determined.

The reporters asked Judy the usual stupid questions, and more or less ignored me, after we went through the doors and started down the steps. What are your plans? Why are you doing this? What is your relationship with this fox? Are you in love with Mr. Otterton? 

However, one of them, an arctic vixen, very pretty, asked something that wasn’t foolish. “Who is this fox? Does he work for the Administrator?” She looked at me, but pushed the microphone at Ms. Hopps, who stopped. She didn't answer. 

I took Judy’s arm and guided her around behind me so that I was between her and the cameras. 

“Stay,” I told the reporters, and pointed at a spot on the ground. Most of them stayed. A few backed up and fell over as I turned to Judy and gestured. 

I guided Judy a few meters away and turned to her. She stopped and turned to face me. 

“Ask,” I said, putting her luggage down next to her, but not between us, and looking around. We’re out in the open here on the sidewalk, at the bottom of the steps, with the reporters behind me and to my right. There are dozens of witnesses, but I don’t expect that to matter if someone wants to try something. Around us, but not immediately adjacent on three sides, there are tall buildings, with many, many windows. 

“Do you? Do you work for the administrator?” Judy asked.

“We’re not past this yet? I told you. We’ve been in contact, but I don’t work for her,” I replied.

“Contact? What does that mean and when was that?” She asked. “And I wish you wouldn’t wear those sun glasses all the time.”

“It means we’ve been in contact,” I replied, ignoring the part about my eyewear. “I won’t lie to you, Carrots, but I won’t tell you everything about my life or my social calendar either. Not today, anyway. You need to trust me, and trust is earned over time.”

I can see she’s thinking about that. I didn’t want to admit any sort of contact with my sister, but I need Judy to accept me, and that means I need to continue to pique her curiosity and not lie about something she’ll learn later. Maybe if I-

The tiger came out of a blind spot, behind me on the left while I was looking the other way. I barely managed to grab Judy and pull her out-of-the-way, unharmed, as the big cat, and his knife, went past us. I lost my sunglasses as I spun in place, but the glare of the sun is not blinding. Like so many other things in life, it’s merely annoying.

“I have no business with you, whoever you are, but my target is behind you,” he said, a few seconds later, after reorienting himself, and turning back around. Clearly, he thought I was working with someone on the Council, and his boss, who probably is on the Council, didn’t want a pissing match. That’s understandable. I expect he also thought I would be unable to stop him because he's so large, and so he probably didn't expect to have to say anything at all to either of us. Now, he's just standing there, uncertain, improvising. 

I can tell by looking at him that he is not a member of one of Zootopia's organized crime families, so he’s probably from the military instead. He’s not a very skilled hit mammal, so I doubt I’ll need my baton or my pistol. He’s probably too close for the pistol anyway. 

“Then I know-“ I started to say, but the tiger’s head whipped back, fractions of a second before we all heard the passage of the supersonic bullet. 

I grabbed Judy’s suitcase and her arm. “We need to get out of here.”

“Where were the cops? The ZPD?” She asked, confused, but she let me guide her away, down the sidewalk. I kept between her and the body of the tiger. I would rather not have her see what was left of his head. I’ve seen, and done, such things before, but she hasn’t, and so does not need to know.

“Cops have lots of things to do. Sometimes that means they don’t have to see things that they don’t want to see,” I replied. I know the chief, and I don’t think he’d let Judy Hopps be killed. On the other hand, I'm not sure exactly what his instructions have been. 

We walked to my car, a gift from Mr. Big, and Judy met my friends, Kevin and Raymond. Kevin gave me the car keys and a cell phone. 

“I’ll call him. Later, OK?” I suggested. 

The big bear nodded and then I guided an unresisting Judy into the passenger side of the vehicle. I circled the car, and then got into the driver’s seat. I was glad to see that there were new sunglasses in the glove compartment near Judy. She pulled back as I leaned over.

“I won’t hurt you,” I reminded her, and she did not reply. Probably still in shock. I checked the map and turned onto a street that would lead us to the building that would be Judy's office during her stay in the city.

Eventually, she calmed down enough to ask questions again. “What happened? Back there?”

“Best guess? The administrator had somebody watching you. The tiger was a threat, and so the tiger was removed," I replied. "I could have done it myself.”

“You mean you-”

“Yes,” I interrupted, keeping my eyes on the road. I considered telling her about my professional resume', but I didn't because she asked another question.

“You would kill?”

“If I had to, yes. If, for example, the sniper had only wounded the tiger, then the cat would still have been a threat. Threats are removed,” I said. She shook her head fiercely, and I wondered if I was ever that naïve? Mercy to an enemy is a choice, not a carved in stone requirement, and there are reasons for that. Reasons that Judy Hopps apparently does not know.

“It’s not what I wanted! It’s not why I came here! I want to see justice for Otterton, but instead, I’m responsible for the death of that tiger,” she said.

“You’re not responsible. Whoever sent that tiger is responsible,” I assured her. And possibly the sniper, but I don’t want to get into that until I figure out who it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another difference in my story compared to Sunderance. This change has to do with the actions of a rabbit later in the story, and the official reasons [as stated by the Administrator in one of the extra scenes] for those actions. I felt like anyone watching Nick kill the tiger in the original story would have no trouble thinking that Nick could handle a few wolves.


	4. The Home and Office at Picayune Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see the office space that the Administrator has provided for Judy Hopps' use while in the city, and we meet a couple of the members of this ZPD.

“This is it,” I said, pulling into the driveway at the address Judy gave me. The building was exactly what I expected. It was small, and I could see that it would have, probably, four rooms, none of which very large. One tree out front, and no yard to speak of. This would definitely not be a good place to settle down and raise funnies or boxes.

We got out, and then I went around the front of the car to be next to her again. That’s what a body guard does and where a body guard stands. If I’m too far away, I can’t move her away from danger fast enough. We had already seen a demonstration of the importance of my position relative to her this morning, after all.

However, she didn’t seem to fully understand that aspect of our relationship, and tried to put too much distance between us.

“Carrots,” I said, and she glared at me when I reached for her. She is not fast, nor is she agile, and so I was easily able to restrain her, and then, pin her against the hood of the car when she tried to escape. She reached for her Taser. I let her draw, but not use, it. 

“It’s good that you’re ready to fight, but the voltage is set too high, and these things are illegal, especially for mammals like you. Don’t use it unless you have to,” I said. She glared at me as I leaned over her on the hood of the car, so I continued. 

“We are in this together now and, probably, under constant surveillance. That means I stay close to you and you don’t try to get away from me. An assassin will see your actions, and will time the next attack to take advantage of any distance between us.”

“I don’t even know who you really are!” She said. Her voice and her scent telling me that she was more annoyed than anything else. Then she put her tazer back in her pocket and surprised me by reaching up to my face and removing my sunglasses. “Tell me again.”

“My name is Nick. You can trust me. I will protect you,” I said, again, remembering to use the ‘truth’ facial cues, like steady eye contact and that sort of thing. I nearly gave her my last name also, but I'm not ready to tell her that yet. 

“May I get up now?” She asked. She is so polite, even now.

I took my hands off her arms and moved back, but not before considering various sorts of foolishness. She is very appealing, in her way, and here I have her pinned to the hood of a car. 

We went into the house, and I distracted myself from those odd thoughts by checking everything. No windows in the bathroom. Bed for one in the bedroom. No couch. No spare bed anywhere. Table and chairs. Small kitchen, entirely suitable for one. The administrator apparently didn’t expect her to have a guard.

Or maybe not a close protection kind of guard? The sniper was definitely a guard and it’s the kind of thing someone like the administrator would do. Like my sister would do, apparently, because they’re the same mammal.

Again I considered telling Judy more about myself, and again I don’t. What’s the point? Trust comes from time and choices. Choices not to betray when given the opportunity, and then time to realize that the choice had been made. I already trust Judy to do the right thing based on my research of her past actions, but she doesn’t trust me because we only just met, earlier today. She really doesn’t know much about me, and anything I tell her is going to be suspect, at least for the first few days of our relationship.

Also, she still doesn’t fully understand how this close protection thing works. 

She tries to close the door to the bathroom, and I stop her, briefly. “I’m only letting you close this door because there are no windows. I know because I checked a minute ago. There can be only one open door between us, with all the other rooms, and this must continue to be in effect throughout your stay here,“ I told her.

“And if I close my door anyway?”

“Tomorrow morning there will not be a door.”

Then she did close the door, harder than necessary, so I went into the main room to look outside. That’s when I saw the police radio car with the male weasel and the female tiger.

I’ve seen the weasel before, at Wilde Times, and I know his type. He is some sort of spy for someone, probably on the Council, in the ZPD. I have studied the list of ZPD personnel, so I know the name of his partner as well.

“I’d rather this weasel cop didn’t see me,” I told Judy, after she joined me at the window. Then I stood behind the bedroom door so as to be out of sight from the doorway. As long as he stays outside, this shouldn’t be a concern, but the doors are only a dozen or so feet apart. 

“Hello Ms. Hoops. Where’s your friend? The fox?” Leftenant Weaselton asked from outside.

“That’s Miss Hopps. And you are?” Judy replied. I noticed her voice had shifted into a kind of 'adult talking to a misbehaving child' tone, or, more likely, a lawyer talking to someone trying, and failing, to intimidate her. 

“Weaselton, Lieutenant Weaselton,” the weasel said. I heard him barge into the living room, and then he was moving around, sniffing. He clearly knows I am here, and the house is not large, so I step out from behind the door. 

“Duke,” I said, as he turned to look at me.

“You don’t have permission to enter this residence. Either show us your warrant or leave,” Judy said, entirely focused on Duke.

“I don’t need a warrant cutesy,” the weasel replied. “And what are you doing here, Nick?”

I said nothing, waiting for Judy to ask me to throw him out. So far, he was willing to talk, for now. I've seen him get violent when frustrated, and he likes to carry, and show off, a strictly non-regulation knife. Very much like that tiger had, actually. 

His partner, patrol mammal Fangmeyer, came to the door outside, saw me, and then didn’t enter. No warrant, after all.

“Nothing to say? Maybe a trip downtown will loosen your tongue,” Weaselton said, but his scent was shifting toward uncertainty. He had seen that his partner stayed outside, and noticed the way Judy and I watched him. He knew his position was not a strong one, but he didn’t know how to retreat, either.

“You’re going to leave, Wuzzleton. I insist,” Judy told him, again in her ‘lawyer talking to a criminal’ tone.

The weasel turned toward her. “Now you listen to me-“ he began, as I started moving toward him. 

Judy kicked him between the legs. 

I stopped, the weasel fell, and then Judy reached into her jacket. “I have had enough threats today," she said. "You were asked to leave. Now-“

“You bitch!” Weaselton spat, and tried to get up. He didn’t make it very far. 

This time Judy tasered him, and he hit the carpet again. I watched as he fell, and I noticed that the tigris was also watching, entirely uninterested in helping him. 

After a few seconds, Judy took her finger off the weapon’s trigger. I picked the weasel up, and carried him outside, and then put him back in the patrol car. Fangmeyer had stepped out of my way at the door of the office, and then opened the passenger side door of the police cruiser, so I could deposit my burden. 

“Now you be sure and let us know if you hear about someone plotting against us. If something happens and I find out that you knew, and didn’t tell us, I might have to lodge a formal complaint,” I informed the weasel. I could see by his terrified scent and the look on his face that he got the message. That complaint would be very unpleasant, probably fatal, for someone. He knew who that someone would be.

Fangmeyer nodded to me, went around the other side of the patrol car, got in, and then they drove off.

“You have anything to add?” Judy asked me, somewhat belligerently. She was still holding the taser, possibly because she had forgotten about it.

“No, but that might be because I don’t want to get kicked. Or shot,” I replied, and grinned at her. She shook her head, and then we went back into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funnies and boxes are, of course, crosses between foxes and bunnies. These sound better than fabbits and roxes, after all.


	5. Cops and Politicians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy making the rounds, gathering more information. She's only got about a week before the start of the actual retrial, so each day is busy.

Later that day, we went to see the Chief of Police at ZPD headquarters. He wasn’t very happy to see us. I knew him from my time as a wino, but he was nice enough not to mention that. 

“Chief Bogo. Thank you for-“ Judy began, but the big buffalo interrupted her. 

“Skip the pleasantries. I don’t have the time. Why are you here and what you want?” He asked.

“I'll try to keep as brief as possible,” Judy replied. If she was annoyed about Chief Bogo’s manner, it was not apparent. She had probably had conversations like this many times before. “Something happened earlier today, and I’ve been reading the official reports, so I have some questions.”

Bogo didn’t react, and Judy continued. “The documents say the first report of the crime was an anonymous tip. Apparently someone had said they heard the Ottertons fighting? Was that person ever identified?”

“No. Lots of mammals want to help the police, but most of them don’t want anyone else to know about it, and these tips are usually garbage, so we don’t spend much time looking for anonymous tipsters. In any case, it wasn’t necessary this time because we found all the evidence we needed. Any more stupid questions?”

“A few,” Judy replied, still acting like she was not annoyed by Bogo’s attitude or the implication that any evidence that didn't support Otterton's guilt wasn't needed. Like me, she knew the big buffalo was trying to make our stay in his office no longer than absolutely necessary. 

“Who were the first officers on scene?” Judy asked “The reports list who was there, but not who was first to arrive.”

“Lieutenant Weaselton and Patrol mammal Fangmeyer were first on scene,” the buffalo replied. “They were already in the area, code 10-7, on break, at a local gas station.”

“Is that unusual?” Judy asked, and I wondered how much Judy actually knows about police procedures? Or maybe she’s just curious as to how Bogo might frame his reply. The bull snorted. 

“For officers to be on break? My officers are not machines. They need downtime like everyone else and the vehicles need fuel,” the bull said. “Now, is that all you want to know? I’m-”

Judy interrupted him, and put several documents on his desk. “I’d like to know if you’re willing to cooperate with my investigation. It’s nice that you defend your officers so loyally, but a mammal’s life is on the line, and I need to know what really happened in order to properly defend him.”

“These are copies of your officers’ reports. I have noted the concerns that I have, and perhaps you may also have comments.

“If you help me, I will make sure the court and the public know it. If you don’t, the court and the public will know that also,” the rabbit said. “Once the trial starts, I will be entirely free to present my information in whatever manner I choose.” The documents were too small for him to read but we knew he could easily get larger ones made.

“Fine,” Bogo replied, waving a hoof. “I will help you, but not because of your 'oh so polite' threats.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Judy replied, looking more thoughtful now. “I’m going to need to question the first responders, and one of them, Lt. Weaselton, is very likely going to be a hostile witness.”

“Would this be something that happened earlier today?” Bogo asked Judy, but he looked at me. “Do you know why Weaselton called in his remaining sick days?”

“It wasn’t me,” I told the police chief. 

“Lt. Weaselton entered my office, my home, without warrant, or permission, and then refused to leave when asked. Repeatedly. His manner was aggressive. Insulting language was used. I had to strike him to defend myself,” Judy said. 

That’s one way to put it. However, we both knew assault on a serving police officer, in pursuit of that officer’s duties, is a serious matter. Bogo didn’t bother to point this out. This may have had to do with his low opinion of Lieutenant Weaselston, and his awareness that Judy had been attacked on the steps of the courthouse today. He must have known that the ZPD could have prevented that attack if they had been present. 

As for me, I was somewhat relieved that Judy didn’t mention the tazer.

The buffalo used the intercom. “Clawhauser. Contact Weaselton. Tell him to be here in an hour. I don’t care how much pain he says he’s in.” 

Then he released the intercom, raised an eyebrow, and turned back to Judy. “You didn’t break anything, did you?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied.

“Just his balls,” I added, but Bogo pretended to ignore me.

“Very well. I’ll make notes,” he said, gesturing at the documents. “And send them to you later today or tomorrow.”

Then he pointed at the door. “Now, if you’re done with your questions, you can feel free to get out of my office.”

“Thanks,” Judy said, and then we found ourselves out in the hallway. Judy started to leave, but I stopped her.

After a moment, we heard Bogo laughing and trying to suppress it. This went on for about half a minute and then stopped, so I put my sunglasses back on, and lead the way out of the building, back to our car. If we hurry, we can probably still talk to Lionheart today. 

Mayor Lionheart was not as helpful as Chief Bogo, but the lion was less direct about it. 

His staffers told us he was “in a meeting and can’t be disturbed,” and so we waited outside, next to his car. He is the mayor of Zootopia, officially, but he doesn’t have a private exit. He does have a car.

“And what would you like to discuss?” He asked after the pleasantries were done and he had sent his prey aide home. It was just now sunset.

“You met Mr. Otterton? Did you record your meetings?” Judy asked. She probably could not tell, but the lion smelled a little odd, and I wondered why. 

“Yes, and yes, you can have a copy of those recordings, but you can’t use them in court. They were done without consent,” the lion replied. “You know the rules here.”

We saw Chief Justice Bellweather leave the building, and I wondered if she was the ‘meeting’ I could still smell on Lionheart? That would be interesting.

“I’m not sure why you did that, if you also know the rules, but it should not be a problem,” Judy replied. The lion shrugged. He was probably records the conversations he has with nearly everyone. 

As it turned out, he didn’t know much, and could not help very much, so we didn’t keep him long. He was not on the Council, and he was no fox, so his power is very limited. Many refer to him as ‘the clerk,’ and I knew the job title was not far wrong.

We were leaving when Lionheart cleared his throat. 

“Yes?” Judy asked. She paused and turned partway back around. I didn’t like being in the open like this because of the many ways we might be watched. 

“You’ll tell everyone that I helped you?” Lionheart asked, sounding, and smelling, somewhat desperate. 

“Of course. You’ve been very helpful,” the rabbit replied, in a reassuring tone. “I’ll be in touch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Sunderance, Nick told Judy that tasers are illegal, which is probably why Judy didn’t tell Bogo about using it. I didn't actually realize that until writing this chapter... I didn't notice what she didn't tell Bogo.


	6. Death of General Valter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening of Judy's first day in Zootopia, and then part of the next day. Fox and rabbit at the little house, and we learn more about Nick.

It’d been a long first day, and so we grabbed some takeout food, and went back to what I was starting to think of as home. Why? It had a kind of homely look. There was a tree out front, even though it was not large. There was not much of a yard, and no picket fence.

I went in, and she followed. I had another look around, and found nothing this time. I wasn’t reassured, but I knew there wasn’t much I could do about it. Lack of evidence is not evidence of lack.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I told Judy as she scrolled through some contacts on her phone in the main room.

She nodded, then moved into the bedroom, so she wouldn’t accidentally see too much fox. One open door between us.

I quickly wet myself down, soaped up, and then rinsed off, probably faster than the rabbit thought possible. I was toweling myself dry when I heard her talking on the phone. I could hear only her side of the conversation, but I could guess what her mother was saying. 

“He’s here, in the other room,” Judy's voice said. 

I stopped making noise, or moving for that matter, so I could hear better. 

“No mom, I’m an adult, okay?” She said, sounding somewhat resigned. 

“He was on the train; he said he was on vacation. He followed me to the courthouse, and then he stood next to me during my presentation! I didn’t think they would let him into the courthouse,” she said, sounding more annoyed. I could not see her ears, but I’m fairly sure they were draped down her back. 

“No, he hasn’t said, but that’s not it. Whatever it is, I can handle it. 

“I’ll be careful,” she was saying.

It wasn’t hard to guess what that was about. I could imagine her mother’s voice on the other end of the line. ‘He’s a male fox, and he’s doing this so he can to take advantage of you.’

Right. Well, I’m glad they don’t know what, exactly, I was doing with my time five years ago. Drinking, fucking, drinking, fucking, sleeping, drinking, rinse and repeat, day after day, again and again. To forget. It didn’t work, so now I have alcohol in a glass with me nearly all the time, but I don’t actually drink it.

Now, I probably should confront that other demon. The one not in a bottle.

I put on my pants, but don’t fasten the front completely. It doesn’t matter anyway, right? She’ll be angry and repulsed. I can assure her that I don’t even like rabbits, and then she won’t worry about me disturbing her tonight while she sleeps with the door open. 

I wish to be clear at this point. I have never, and would never, force myself upon a female. Never needed to. Never wanted to. However, I have lied and seduced a great many females so that we might have sex. Now, I can’t remember their scents or their names. I need to close that door with this rabbit before I start thinking about how, exactly, such a seduction might be accomplished. 

I enter the kitchen where she is, with her back turned, and I ask about her parents. “They’re worried about you?”

At first, she doesn’t turn around, and I can see her thinking about how she wants to reply. Maybe I’m overdoing my demonstration?

“You could dress yourself,” she says, after turning around and seeing me. She lowers her eyes and then realizes what she’s almost, but not quite, looking at, and she looks away again. She turns back toward the wall, and I notice her scent. She’s not angry. She’s curious, embarrassed, and… interested.

I approach, and corner her, as she tries to step away from me. “If this is what I wanted? In exchange for my help? Would you give me your body?” I ask, with my muzzle next to one of her ears.

Then I surprise us both by nipping her fur, just a little. 

“No,” she says, quivering. “Not for that.”

Suddenly, I realize what, exactly, I am doing and how my own body is reacting.

It’s like drinking the damned alcohol, one drink, or one nip, is not enough. Two is too many; one touch is not enough. 

“Good,” I replied. 

I retreated, and her scent changed to anger and frustration as I adjust my pants with my back to her. Probably should take care of that by myself, later, after the rabbit is fully asleep. I don’t need the distraction of that sort of desire.

“Just what the fox was that?” she asked. Ears up now, and facing me, but no longer excited. Now, her scent is irritated. 

“I’m-. You should rest. It’s been a long day and I can only assume there is much to do tomorrow,“ I replied. 

“OK,” she replied, apparently willing to let me off the hook. I expect she's going to be thinking about this and we'll be talking about it again, but not tonight. “I assume you’re not tired?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll sleep.”

“There is no bed out here. Let me get you a-“ she started to say. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve slept better and in worse.”

There is no sense telling her about all the times I woke up in the gutter, some stranger’s bed, or some flophouse, hung over. 

She relents, goes to her room, and changes clothes to sleep. I do not watch, but I can hear what she’s doing in there. I wait for her breathing to steady as she falls asleep.

One more thing to do. I pick up Kevin’s phone and dial Mr. Bigg’s number.

“Papa? Yes, I’m okay. You saw what happened to the tiger? Yes, probably that ‘Ghost’ mammal. No, I don’t know it was, but it seems reasonable, right? Well, maybe. Oh, the rabbit? She’s sleeping…”

The next day started out uneventfully. Judy woke up early and we had breakfast. She took a shower and then went back to her bedroom to go over her notes and make some phone calls. The notes from Bogo were delivered and she probably read those as well.

As for me, I had nothing to do, so I took off my jacket and my weapons harness. Somebody sent a tiger hit mammal in broad daylight yesterday and then Weaselton showed up here, but today? Nothing all morning, and I was starting to get a little bored after resting my eyes a couple of hours. So I turned on the TV around noon to find out that one of the Council members, a fox named General Valter, had been assassinated. 

None of his guards were killed, so the general was probably killed by one of his peers, but of course the TV people didn’t know. I believe it was one of his peers because only a peer would have access to a professional that could do something like that. A professional like me, in other words. 

Judy came out of her room an hour later and went into the kitchen without a word to me. I didn’t mind.

“You could dress yourself,” I told her, wondering how she would react. She was wearing a shirt but no pants. Just underwear, which I saw when she reached for something on a shelf. She must’ve known I’d see, so it must have been deliberate. 

“I could say the same of you, again,” she replied, after turning around to look at me. She leaned on the counter in such a way that only her thighs were visible below the shirt. 

“I can’t be fully ready at all times. Maybe you could give me your schedule? Or put on some pants?”

“Do you want me to wear pants?” she asked.

I was saved from the need to reply by the TV. She noticed the news and asked who was, who had been killed, and who had done it.

“I don’t know who killed Gen. Valter. Maybe it was that sniper from earlier? One kill, no collateral damage, that’s his, or her, style. I can’t say who it was, except it wasn’t me.”

“Also this sort of thing is the reason why the doors stay open. I can’t hear or smell, effectively, past a closed-door, and anyone with that skill level,” I said, motioning to the TV, “is going to be able to get in and out quietly through a window.”

“Mammals are dying because of me,” she said. “I don’t like it.”

She didn’t say anything at all about fortifying the house, boarding up any windows, or the need for me to be more careful. She is very brave; but I knew that when she tried to come here alone. 

“The ones that sent the tiger? They're like moths,” I said, gesturing to the TV. “You’re the flame. They can’t help but be attracted even when they have to know their own actions put them in danger of retaliation. Remember. The darker the corner, the bigger the moth.”

This was something my dad told me long, long ago. I didn’t have a clue what he meant at the time, but I do now. Just like Sun Tzu makes more sense now. No point trying to explain that to Judy however, so I'm relieved that she doesn't ask for clarification. If she really wants to know, but doesn't understand it, she'll ask me about it again later. 

“Well, you should get dressed, or we should anyway. Bogo says we can interview Weaselton this afternoon.“

“You’re the boss,” I told her, rolled my sleeves back down, and went to get weapons harness and then my jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, they're flirting. Of course they are. Sunderance is a "Wilde Hopps" fanfiction, and I saw no reason to change that. Judy would be attracted to him, wouldn't she? She hasn't seen him kill, in my version, or not yet anyway. I think she would be less attracted to a killer, especially a predator, considering how dead set she is, later, against Nick killing some annoying wolves.


	7. At the ZPD and then out to Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy continues to chase the leads in her case for Mr. Otterton, and Nick continues to question his feeling for her.

We put our suits on and went downtown to ZPD headquarters. I wanted to grab a bite for a late lunch first, but Judy was in too much of a hurry, so we ended up getting some chips from a vending machine instead.

I spent the next several hours, throughout the rest of the afternoon and into early evening, watching the rabbit do her thing. She was impressive as I expected. She asked both officers the same questions, and managed to shake both of them enough to knock them ‘off script’ if that was what they were doing.

Turns out, Weaselton was, but Fangmeyer wasn’t.

Judy’s interview style was unlike my own, but I’ve never had to cross examine a witness in a trial. I usually just need to know some piece of information. To get that information, I need only convince my subject that it would be better for them to give it to me than not give it to me. I normally start with threats and then, more often than I would like, apply pain. 

My intervention was necessary with both subjects, but only verbally. I felt the need to remind Weaselton about his manners after I caught him looking at Judy like a piece of meat, and I reassured Marilyn Fangmeyer that an honest mistake is just that, when she admitted that she didn’t actually see Otterton pick up the knife. 

I suspect he did. Pick up the knife that is. Why not? Imagine being in his place. You just arrived home. Wife bleeding on the floor. You hear a noise, and then see a weasel. Wouldn’t you pick up a weapon if one was nearby? I’m not sure what, precisely, I would do, but then I have a great deal more training than Mr. Otterton, so it’s not really a fair question. Also, based on what I’ve heard so far, I’m not sure where, precisely, the knife was when he saw it. 

We used two different rooms because the police partners were two different sizes. The weasel was our size, but the cat was much larger, and so we needed special seating. Neither room was called an interrogation room, but Judy was perfectly at ease in both. Like she had done this 100 times before. Probably had. 

As for me, I found my mind wandering. Judy had things to do, and various mammals to talk to about the details, but a body guard in a police station is never going to have much to do. 

Why did I bite her? Because I wanted to, obviously. I thought I could not be tempted. I thought my hormones were fully under my control, after all those years of drinking and fucking, followed by years of not drinking and not fucking. Now, I carry alcohol around and daily I prove I am its master.

But this female! On the other paw, I haven’t actually had sex with her. I want to. But I haven’t. Yet. I know how to get there from here. 

Is that what I want? Yes. And her scent, and actions, tell me she wants it also, but this seems like such a cliché. A vulnerability for me, and distraction for her. Maybe after the case, but then, I’m not sure what sort of shape the city will be in if things go sideways. This case is getting a great deal of attention, and very few mammals believe Otterton is guilty. 

I think I’ll take Judy to Locklan’s tonight. I haven’t been there in a while, and a date would be a good… apology? For taking the first step toward intimacy, as I did, and for then backing out, as I also did. I wonder if she thinks I simply changed my mind at the last second because I was afraid? In fact, I had always intended to back off, and I didn’t expect her to welcome an advance. 

Finally, she finishes the interview with the second one, Fangmeyer, Judy collects her notes, and leaves the building. I follow as usual.

Back in the car, we talked about what we saw and heard. Or rather what Judy learned from what we saw and heard.

“They are police partners, but their stories were not the same. Weaselton had rehearsed his lines, especially that part where he described the scene! Fangmeyer must have at least thought about what she would say, and the way her current memory of the event doesn’t quite fit her report,” Judy said. She was talking, or pretending to talk, to me, but I doubt she was paying very much attention to my replies. 

“Is that important? I would think any cop would think about what they would say if asked about something like this,” I observed, making conversation while I drove. Judy thought we were headed back to the house on Picayune, but I had other plans.

“So, they were in the area when Fangmeyer received the call. Weaselton was on break at the time. They get to the scene, minutes later. He’s first in, so he knows more about what actually happened, or what happened first, I suppose. Fangmeyer, on the other paw, apparently didn’t see anything unusual. I’m pretty sure Weaselton lied to me today and I know he knows more than he’s telling, but I can’t prove it yet,” she said, staring out the window. 

“Fangmeyer said Weaselton usually doesn’t go in first,” I pointed out. “This was an otter sized house, so a weasel would have an easier time getting around in there.”

Judy nodded, and then noticed we were not headed back home. “Nick? Where are we going?” 

“I know a place with live music and good food. Predator and prey. Unless you want to microwave something at the office?” I asked. 

“Is this a date, Nick?” She answered my question with one of her own, and I returned the favor. 

“Would you like it to be a date? Would you like to have dinner with me, Miss Hopps?”

“Love to,” she replied.

Locklan’s was just as I remembered it. Rocky, a raccoon, still plays a nice piano, and Locklan, an otter, still cooks a very good seabass and chips. He gave me my usual whiskey, and a water for Judy, as soon as we sat down. 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to fully enjoy the experience because Judy the lawyer could not help giving me the third degree. Her tone and her scent were inquisitive. “Why are we here? It’s not simply to eat.”

“I can help you. After dinner, we can meet a friend of mine. He knows-“ I started to say, but she interrupted me. 

“Nick. Please don’t evade my question,” she said, more impatient now. 

I looked away. “I’m sorry I bit you okay? It was terribly forward of me.”

“It’s okay, I guess? I didn’t mind that, and at least I know the attraction is mutual,” she replied, trying not to hide behind her water glass. The way we were sitting, and the relative size differences, meant that the placement of table items like her water and my whiskey could have more meaning than normal. “I was more annoyed, at the time, that you didn’t do anything else, actually.”

“Ah, yes.” I replied. Now how the heck can I explain that was always the plan and not sound like a jerk? I honestly didn’t expect her to be interested. “So, what do we do now?”

“Well, we could go home and bang out a quick one,” Judy suggested, somewhat flippantly. 

That suggestion surprised me enough that I nearly inhaled my water, but then I laughed. Foxes don’t ‘bang’ quickly, or not as fast as rabbits anyway, but I’m pretty sure that detail is not necessary to know now.

Judy waited for me to settle down, and asked about the alcohol that I nearly always had in a glass nearby, so I told her about being an alcoholic. I didn’t tell her why, when, or how, that happened. I don’t want to talk about who I am, or who I was. I’ll have to. Just not yet.

“So I keep a drink around as a daily reminder. I don’t drink it, so I control it. It does not control me,” I concluded. 

“So you’re saying you have no weaknesses?” She asked. Clearly she wants to know more. I almost tell her, but… There is no going back.

“I didn’t have any weaknesses. And then I met a bunny,” I replied, smiling at her. She smiled back, and now her scent was satisfied.


	8. Inside and Outside the DMV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy meets another one of Nick's friends, and then they both meet a new player in the game.

I took Judy to Flash’s hideout, under the Department of Mammal Vehicles, or DMV, after dinner. She was initially very unimpressed, kind of like the way she reacted when she saw the door to Locklin’s. Like most mammals, she tends to judge books by their covers. It’s a natural enough reaction, I suppose.

Soon enough, she met Flash, the sloth, in his nest of computers and video monitors of various types and sizes, and gave him the information he requested. As his search engines compiled additional data, I saw some of it, and winced. The receipt for my custom-made, bullet resistant, 150,000 bucks, suit was on there. And various other items, including what appears to be Otterton at a gas station, and an audio file called ‘dbel’.

It’s all very puzzling, but we can’t review it here. Or today for that matter. Flash’s information is always time delayed, in case the recipient gets caught near the DMV. There won’t be any recognizable data yet.

Finally, the data stops compiling, so Judy and I prepare to leave. 

“Wait,” Flash's voice says. He’s been using his computers to speak for him because normally he would be too slow. “Watch.”

We can see, on several monitors, a trio of wolves outside the DMV. They start near our car, and then spread out, clearly looking for Judy and me.

OK. I know what to do about this. “Flash? I’m going for a walk. Keep Judy-.”

“Wait. There is another one,” Flash says. We can see… something… but it’s not very clear. 

Both Judy and I are leaning toward the nearest video screen, very slightly, as the picture goes fuzzy from something hitting the camera. Flash switches to another view, but the angle is bad, so he switches again, but it’s farther away. He zooms in, but the wolves are already down.

“What in the seven hells?” I wonder, out loud. 

We can’t see anything else nearby. “I’ll have a look. Keep Judy here until I signal.”

Flash nods, Judy begins to protest, but then gives up when I point out that I'm just going out to have a look.She says, “be careful.”

“Careful is for other mammals,” I replied, and took the elevator up. 

There appears to be nothing here to concern us. Just the smell of three, very dead, wolves, and some slightly different insect noises. I can’t tell where an intruder might be from the sounds, and I can’t see any sort of danger, so I wait for something, or someone, to show him or herself. 

Minutes pass. Nothing. I can’t wait forever because whoever sent these wolves is going to be wondering what happened and might send more. Or, someone might have called the ZPD, and I really don’t want to explain my part in all of this, so I walk over to one of external microphones and say two words. “Go ahead.”

I thought that might draw a reaction, but nothing happens as I turn back around. The insect noises are the same, so whatever it is, or was, may have been gone the whole time. 

Judy shows up behind me on the elevator and I walk backward, keeping her in my peripheral vision. “There is-“ I start to say, but she motions with her ears. 

I turn to look, and, now that I know exactly where, I can see a kind of outline. When it realizes I’m looking, two eyes also appear. It’s like that cat from that story set in Cheshire. Here, we just see the eyes, not the teeth. 

I put my paws behind my back, and move closer to it. More details seem to materialize, becoming almost clear. However, I can see only the eyes clearly. And then, some sort of silhouette.

This might be the infamous ‘yurei’, or ‘ghost.’ Or it might be someone else. I don’t really know. He’s clearly not in league with the wolves so there are at least two more players in addition to Judy and me.

He or she just… stands there. Saying nothing. Waiting for me to react. I can’t help but think he might not be hostile, or maybe not hostile to us anyway. He might not even have intended to be seen. 

My paws are already behind my back, so I draw the baton with my left and push it up my sleeve. There is no point advertising my weapon, and I don’t know if this intruder is armed. He’s too close for me to draw, aim, and fire my pistol, so there’s no sense in trying. Or is there?

“I admit, I’ve heard stories about you, but the stories don’t talk about your eyes,” I tell him. Or I speak in his general direction anyway. He doesn’t seem to move and he makes no reply. 

“I thought you’d be taller,” I tried again. Still no sound, so I check to see where Judy is, and still the ghost does not move. 

“Don’t want to talk?” I ask him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

I turn my torso away to give him a smaller target area and reach for my pistol in the holster under my left arm with my right paw, the one not holding the baton. Now, the shadow moves. 

He does not run or try again to hide. The eyes get huge, and there is the movement of air toward me, like someone moving very fast, exactly as I expected. This is no ghost. This is a highly trained, well-equipped, opponent, trying to take me out before I can use my pistol. He’s doing exactly what I would’ve done in his situation.

He’s already ducking under, and redirecting, my right paw to the left, his left, before I can get the pistol aimed. He’s probably also preparing to strike after he gets a few inches closer to me and further to my left, in another fraction of a second. Of course, now he’s wide open for the baton in my left hand, and he runs into it like a car into a tree. Like he really didn’t know it was there.

And then something, probably his foot, strikes my chin from below, and I fall back as he does the same thing. It’s probably a he because males tend to have greater upper body strength. I smelled scent mask, felt his breath, and heard an exhalation when I struck. 

We face off again, and that’s when my opponent starts to materialize. First an arm, then the arm touches the chest, the illusion fades, and then Judy and I can see what the ghost really is. 

A rabbit with a sword on his back, a scarf on his muzzle, and some sort of armored suit on his body.

Well, not really a rabbit, probably a hare. The ears are different from Judy, and the body is leaner. Or that could just be the armor he’s wearing. Or whatever it is. He’s a very different kind of lagomorph. He did not draw the sword, and now I realize he must have been just testing me. Had he been more serious, he would have at least tried to use that sword on me and I’m not sure I could have dodged a blade I probably could not see.

He pulls a scarf from around his muzzle. “She calls me Jack,” he says, as if that’s some sort of extremely useful information. I suppose it is. At least now I know that he works for the Administrator. 

I move slightly to my left, and Judy moves slightly to our right. There is no point telling her to go back down the elevator. It’s too slow. 

“How did you know where to strike? To damage the suit and turn off the hologram?” Jack asks. He faces me centered, weight distributed equally on both feet, and arms at his sides, trying to look relaxed. 

“I was lucky,” I told him. He knocked the pistol out of my hand, but I’ve still got my baton in my left paw. If he starts to draw his sword, or tries to move around me and get closer to Judy, I’ll have to kill him. “Did Neveen send you?”

Now the paws become fists. “Don’t call her that. If you’re feeling bold, call her Kyubi. Or, more properly, call her by her title, the Administrator,” Jack informs us, without answering my question. There is no scent, but his voice is angry. His body has not moved much since he turned off the hologram, so I’m not sure if this is his normal posture. The ears remain up. 

“Oh, so sorry. I would never willingly endanger her pretend identity,” I replied. I had seen his eyes cut briefly toward Judy. “Did my sister send you?”

I can sense Judy’s surprise. Jack is not surprised, but the fists relax, and the ears lower, slightly. He knows exactly who I am. Of course he does. Just as I know he’s very good with a sniper rifle. 

His reply is annoyed, but not especially angry. “The Administrator wants a meeting. The apex of the tower at midnight before the first day of the trial. I expect both of you would be welcome. For different reasons.”

“I’m sure,” I said, sarcastically.

“Wait,” Judy says, entering the conversation. “Why didn’t she tell me I would have protection?” Judy is looking at Jack, but only mostly. This new information, intended to annoy Jack, has made Judy unsure about my involvement, again. 

“It wasn’t necessary that you be informed. I could easily protect you from a distance, as I did,” the other lagomorph said, evenly. "I should not have gotten involved. Your guard seems competent enough."

“You almost failed,” Judy pointed out, while I tried to decide if I had been insulted. “If Nick had not been there-“

“Then that tiger would’ve died before he got close enough to touch you. Probably taking a bystander or two?” I asked. Mostly for Judy’s benefit. This is not her world. She’s not going to see things the same way Jack and I do. Mammals die all the time. The trick, in our line of work, is to make sure that the dead are mammals you don't know, or the preferred option, mammals you don't much like.

Jack did not reply, and Judy frowned. “This is not what I wanted.”

“Come to the tower. You will have all the answers you need,” the hare said, somewhat dismissively. "Or don't come. Your decision."

“But not all the answers I want,” Judy replied, crossing her arms and cocking her head.

“That’s the way of things,” Jack replied, and put the scarf back on over his muzzle. “Until then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have another difference between Division and Sunderance. In Sunderance, Judy does not participate in, or listen to, the discussion with Jack, and she finds out about Nick's relationship to the Administrator later. The problem I had was of three parts: First, we find out later that Jack killed the wolves because Neveen didn't think her brother had maintained his combat training after she left, and so, she thought Nick might not be able to take care of the wolves without help. Which is odd because the entire city saw Nick "demolish" that tiger. Second, most of the conversation that Nick has with Jack, here at the DMV, seems like it was meant for Judy. That whole thing about "all the answers you need", for example. Later, Judy does most of the talking with the Administrator and Nick listens, so I'm thinking "the answers" were something Judy needed, not Nick. Third, we're supposed to believe that Flash didn't know what killed the wolves. I find that unlikely. 
> 
> Nick knows who the Administrator is. Judy doesn't. Jack wants to fight Nick to prove that he, Jack, is the better male, and sees Nick as a kind of rival for Neveen's affection, so I believe Jack would be ready to fight if he had the opportunity. I made the fight shorter in my version because, in Sunderance, Nick killed the tiger because it was threatening, or Nick thought it was a threat, to Judy, and I wanted Judy to talk to Jack.


	9. Ice Cream and Elephants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy have an appointment in a couple of days, but meanwhile, Judy needs to gather more information and Nick takes her on a date.

Later, in the car, Judy and I talked about her situation on the way back to our little house on Picayune.

“So I come to town, and I’m supposed to have a rabbit bodyguard, not a fox? Unless?” She trailed off, and I very carefully don’t sigh.

“No. I am not working for the administrator’” I replied. “Like I said.” Dozens of times. 

“Your sister, the administrator. With whom you seldom meet for tea, I believe you said?” She asked, in the manner of someone going back over a grocery list. Peas, carrots, tofu, and guilt.

“Yes, as I said. My sister. We lost touch with each other many years ago.”

“Are you going to tell me the rest of it? I’m sure there’s more to your story,” she said.

“I would really rather not,” I replied, trying to get her to stop digging for clues. “Some of my history is less than wonderful, let’s say. I already told you a great deal and I’m sure you can infer a great deal else. For example, I’m an alcoholic, so you must know I spent some time trying to drink myself to death.”

“There’s more to it than THAT,” she replied, speculatively, emphasizing the last word. "Why did you drink so much?"

“Yes there's more, but, like I said, I don’t want to discuss it," I replied, ignoring the other part of her question. "Not now.” Maybe not ever. 

“So, later then?” She asked. Her voice, and scent, clearly amused. 

I didn’t bother to reply.

When we got back home, I checked everything, again, and I found nothing. Of course I know that the lack of success didn’t really mean anything, so I wasn't reassured. 

It was late, but Judy was curious, so we looked through Flash’s information on Judy’s laptop computer. Or some of the information anyway. 

As expected, Judy saw a copy of the handwritten receipt for my armored clothes. Hundred fifty thousand bucks, just as I remembered when I bought them from Finn. And we listened to part of Judge Bellweather’s audio diary, “dbel”. She expressed hope that Judy could present a strong case, and revealed what certainly sounded like an ongoing love affair with Mayor Lionheart.

We also saw evidence that the knife had been on the floor by looking at another picture of the location where Mrs. Otterton’s body was found. Weaselton said he saw Mr. Otterton holding the knife, and now it seemed likely that he, Otterton, had picked it up sometime after the real killer had dropped it. I doubt Judy has any familiarity with this sort of thing, but you always want to pull a blade back out when killing. Helps them bleed out. 

And then we saw evidence that Otterton could not have killed his wife. It was a video of him stopping at a gas station and apparently buying something on his way home at the same time the prosecution believes he must have been killing his wife. If there was a receipt, then it probably has a time stamp, and maybe we could find it. The video also showed a police car at the station, and I wondered if this was the same one that responded to the call? The car belonging to Weaselton and Fangmeyer, in other words. 

“That receipt. It could still be in Otterton's car,” Judy said, thinking out loud.

“Unless someone else found and destroyed it. They have had plenty of time and it’s what I would’ve done,” I replied. "Any number of mammals could have, must have, had access to that car.”

She was so close to me now that I nearly kissed her, or least give her a lick. But I didn’t. My memories of what else I used to do, when I wasn’t drunk, or asleep, are still too fresh. Also, I’m not sure if I can continue to protect her properly if I get emotionally involved. Rationally, we should wait, and then I can make a proposal after the trial.

Finally she went to bed and I went back to watching the windows and listening to night sounds. I slept some, but not much, and eventually I put a chair in her bedroom. 

The next day was fairly busy. We started with an interesting conversation when Judy woke up to see me sitting in a chair beside her bed. I have long mastered the ability to sleep briefly, but fully, and then come to full awareness in only a few seconds. Doing this means I can appear not to sleep in situations like this.

Judy did not do this. I could easily tell she was asleep, and dreaming, and several times she whispered my name. It was very flattering. Her scent was clearly aroused, and I waited for her to come more fully awake before speaking.

“I admit, I’m curious as to what you’re dreaming about. Or whom, for that matter,” I said.

She woke, and at first kept the bedsheet up near her neck, but then gave up because I had clearly already seen her legs and her butt by now. She wore only a short T-shirt and the kind of briefs that women wear.

“And I wonder about you as well. But not about who is in your dreams,” she replied. “I already know about whom you dream.”

“After last night? How could it be otherwise?”

“So, why did we stop?” She asked. She didn’t seem disappointed. Just curious.

“It was the right thing to do. I know because you’ve been awake for several minutes and you’re not in my lap right now,” I replied, somewhat boldly. 

She considered this, and looked at my now usual glass of whiskey. The full glass of course. I did not drink yesterday, and I will not drink today.

She got out of bed and then did climb into my lap. “I know you. I trust you.”

I avoided her muzzle, and so she climbed back off. 

“You said you would take you for ice cream today?” she asked.

She took a shower, probably a cold one, and then we went downtown. We had the usual ‘medium sized mammal’ problems avoiding the large-size mammals, but I’m used to it. Judy is not from here, so she’s not used to it, and I had to pull her out of the way of a rhino and an elephant.

But then, we were going to an ice cream shop run by an elephant. It was nobody I knew; it was just one of those local businesses that some people say are superior to any corporate enterprise like Basket-Robbins or Queen of Dairies. I like soft serve ice cream and I don’t care where I get it.

There was a line waiting to be served when we arrived, and the mammal ahead of us was interested in buying the store, not ice cream. He’s a fox, and we learned his name was something like ‘Goodfellow,’ but I thought of him as ‘Foul fellow.’

“Did you bring your pet here to show her the city?” He asked me, and I ignored him like the scum he is. Foxes like this one make life harder for foxes like me by abusing our authority. Also, rabbits are not pets and Judy is not my sex slave as the question implied.

I ordered, and received, two ice creams, while Judy talked to foul fellow.

“What were you before foxes came to rule the city? I shouldn't really ask because I probably already know you were probably some sort of slum lord, but I like to be sure. I expect you owned several substandard buildings, based on your current interest in this ice cream parlor. You probably don’t care about your tenants and the bugs must have enjoyed living there,” Judy said to him. I looked at her, but she shook her head when she saw me, so I went back to focusing on paying for the ice creams.

By the time I came back to Judy's side, Foulfellow was fully furious. He threw down his cigar, and so I gave Judy one ice cream and I gave him the other. He looked happy until I picked up the cigar and put it out in his ice cream. Then I put both the cigar and the ice cream in his inner jacket pocket.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I told him. He has no combat training, and not even a guard. His driver is clearly just some neighborhood kit.

As a fellow fox in Zootopia, and a red one at that, I can threaten other mammals anytime I want. Any cop would see two foxes disagreeing, and stay out of it. Had it been that fox and the elephant owner, the cops would’ve sided with the fox. Less paperwork that way. And less paperwork if they don’t see foxes arguing.

He left, and then Judy and I left also. She is, I think, feeling sorry for the elephants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These events take several chapters in Sunderance, and I must say that the Ice Cream Parlor chapter ["An Actor's Life"] was not one of my favorites, so I don't spend much time on it here. There are many other chapters, later, to which I look forward. 
> 
> Also, I continue to think that Sunderance might simply be ended prematurely, so the author can go on to other projects.


	10. Bighouse and Cathouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy continue to collect clues, and Judy meets Finnic.

That afternoon, we had an appointment at the prison to see Mr. Otterton. It was a short meeting, and not very informative. They didn’t give Judy much time, and part of it was taken by the “don’t touch him or let him touch you” briefing. 

The otter looked tired, and had the scent of defeat and exhaustion about him. He initially acted worried that I was working for the Administrator, but Judy re-assured him by saying that I worked for her. I did not, of course, make any attempt to clarify that statement. 

They got to talking, and ignored me. He confirmed what Judy knew from the police reports, and then also confirmed what we already knew from watching the videos. He had stopped at a gas station and bought something on the way home, but of course he had no idea what had happened to the receipt. Who keeps things like that? 

I found myself day dreaming that something, anything, interesting would happen. And then, something did. 

Three convicts, jackals with homemade knives, killed the guard, entered our visiting room. Two of them went for me and one of them tried for Otterton. The whole thing seemed kind of unreal.

I mean, they know I’m here, but they think they can take me out just because I’m surprised [yeah, right] and outnumbered by three predators that out mass me? Hell, Judy took one of them out with a freaking chair! Like it was the Wide World of Wrestling. But these guys are not fellow professionals and I’m not worried about doing them harm.

It was all caught on the prison video, and, later, I wondered if this really was just some sort of show? Were they contracted by a mammal that knew they would fail?

We spent the rest of that day back at the office. We looked at some more of Flash’s data and saw some evidence that suggested my sister killed General Valter, but we already knew that. Judy made calls, and went over notes in her bedroom while I exercised in the main room. 

I waited for her to invite me into her bedroom, but she didn’t, possibly because she expected me to invite myself? I slept in the main room as usual. 

The next day, the one with the midnight meeting with my sister, started with breakfast, and then I found myself in the police impound lot with Judy. There were many sightlines, so I knew we were being watched, but there was nothing I could do about it.  
I’ve known we’ve been followed for at least a few days. Jack, the Ghost, showing up at the DMV is proof of that. I had been expecting another squad to harass us after the DMV, but not in the prison. A more reasonable effort might be made out here, even if there is more cover.

She filled out the forms, signed her name dozens of times, and then we went to find Mr. Otterton’s car. She ran ahead like a kit after school, and I could only follow. I really don’t like being out in daylight like this, especially when I know there is at least one competent sniper around. Even if he does appear to be on our side.

“This is it!” She said, pointing at a dusty, otter sized sedan, that looks like the one at the gas station in Flash’s video. Of course it has not been used since the arrest.

I was slightly surprised it had not been sold off, but I wasn’t surprised to see less dust on the driver side door handle.

We smelled disinfectant when the door was opened, and Judy climbed in. She didn’t bother with gloves, but climbed around rather like my sister and I used to do in the snow before our parents died. I waited outside the car, and contented myself with keeping an eye on her. I found myself staring at her butt while she rooted around under the front seats.

“Hand me your stick, would you?” She said from the backseat, and put her paw out to receive it.

“What? You can’t use my baton as some sort of… stick for jamming between seats of a dirty car,” I replied. The weapon is complex, carefully balanced, and as familiar to me as my own hand and arm. She might damage it. Or, she might activate one of its functions, and hurt herself. 

“So?” She said climbing back out. 

Her phone rang and saved me from a reply. She answered the same way she answered my call last week. “This is Hopps.”

“What do you mean you have it?” She said, after a moment. I could only watch and wonder to whom she might be talking. 

"You want what?" She asked, more annoyed now, and then she passed her phone to me.

“She said she wants to talk to ‘that mystery fox,’” Judy said, her scent clearly irritated. I admit, calling one person only to get in contact with another person isn’t exactly civil. On the other paw, I usually don't have a phone with me and I don't give out my number. My clients hand deliver their requests, and then, usually, there is a quiet meeting in a parking tower somewhere.

I took the phone. “Speak carefully,” I said. 

I soon realized it was a reporter, possibly the same snow white vixen that was at the courthouse that day we arrived. She had asked Judy who I worked for; and I had had to re-assure Judy before that tiger showed up. Now, the vixen wants to meet me. In exchange, she says she'll give me something she got from the car. That is, she would give us Otterton’s receipt from the night of the murder. 

I don’t know how she got it, but she knows how much Judy needs it. 

Judy insisted that I go, and she would not listen to my excuses about not wishing to leave her behind and not having a place she could stay. I was slightly surprised because the reporter was a female fox and wanted to meet me alone. I had expected Judy to be more jealous, and so I was glad that she wasn’t. 

“I'm sure you have someplace I can stay while you meet her,” she said, knowing that I did. Not the DMV, which we know is being watched, but someplace else. One of my previous locations of employment actually, but I have no intention of telling Judy that.

“Yes. But you won’t like it,” I replied, finally giving up. I was right.

We switched cars three times. The fourth time, we stopped but didn’t get out of our car. I’m pretty sure we lost any tails. Pretty sure. We used large and small cars, all arranged by Mr. Bigg.

Bigg's help, usually in the form of transportation assistance, is part of his guilt after the death of my parents. He seems to blame himself and I still don’t know why. He must have been somehow more involved than I am aware. I’ve never been able to find any evidence of that, or evidence of anything new related to the case, for that matter. It’s like my parents just disappeared one night. On the other hand, I’m a fighter, not a detective.

Judy was not happy to see our destination. The huge sign said ‘Wild Times’, and she knew exactly what the place was. We got there around 5 PM, before the evening rush.

“This brothel is where you plan to leave me?” she asked, angrily. Her ears were up and she leaned somewhat toward me when she spoke. 

“You wanted someplace safe. You’ll be safe here. Also, no one will expect to see you here,” I said. 

“Because it’s a brothel,” she replied. Everyone in town knows the story of this place. It’s the last legal brothel, and it’s only legal because it’s owned by a fox. Also, there are very strict rules in place to protect the employees, none of whom are ever called ‘whores’ even though sex and money are exchanged. 

“Yes. I believe we’ve established that,” I replied, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. At this point, I only had another hour before my meeting with the reporter, and so time was very short. I needed Judy to accept this.

Finn, the proprietor, appeared at the entrance just then and helped me out. He was alone and dressed in his usual, flashy style. He likes mammals to see the movie version of a pimp when they look at him, but it's just a disguise for a very clever business mammal.

“Well, well, look who’s here. And he brought me a bunny,” the short fox said, mostly to me.

I’ve known him for many years. I used to work for him, after I left Bigg’s employment. As a bouncer, in case you wondered. This is where I met Weaselton, briefly, as I was escorting him out. 

Finn’s statement had a negative effect on Judy. Her scent changed from anger to irritation and then toward fear, so I moved closer to her to be reassuring, and felt myself growling at Finn. I guess I really am more attracted to this rabbit than I thought.

“So that’s how it is then? Well, you might as well come inside,” Finn said. He had heard my message, and this was his acceptance of it. 

It was exactly as I remembered, and far cleaner and classier than Judy would have expected, I’m sure. Judy’s body language had become more closed, almost as if she subconsciously expected to be kidnapped and forced to work here at any moment. She stayed very close to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are more differences with Sunderance. I'm doing my story from only one perspective, and Sunderance has more introduction of Nick's sister, the administrator at this point. The transition, however, seems to ignore one night, so I added some commentary here.


	11. The Brothel and the Reporter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy and Nick visit one of Nick's previous locations of employment, and then Nick gets interviewed by a vixen.

And so we went in. Finn walked ahead of us and turned off the music. 

I knew what to expect, having been here many times. I know there are no vixens here, and there weren’t when I was in my ‘love them and leave them’ phase of my life after leaving Mr. Bigg’s employment. Foxes run the city, and so there is no reason for one to work at a place like this. 

There were many tables, large and small, around the middle of the room, and there were doors around the perimeter. One of these was open currently. The tables were the places the clients would wait, and there were strict rules against clients walking around freely. Also, there were strict rules about who, exactly, would initiate the sexual portion of any encounter. This establishment does not believe that the customer is always right. 

“Come on out and meet the newest darlings of Zootopia,” Finn called toward the open door. Judy had no idea who he was talking to, but very soon the majority of the female staff noticed me and came running.

I’ve never paid for the services of any of the girls. Anyway, I was mostly drunk at that time in my life and not working here. Or anywhere else, really. The working girls and boys all know how much money I have, and so I am not surprised when the girls crowd around, making offers.

They are nearly every different species, depending on what the client might desire. Large and small, predator and prey, all young, all above the age of consent. All dressed in one form of underwear or another, just as any teenage, heterosexual, male would have hoped. I am no teenager, and I find the sights and the smells distracting rather than arousing, as they gather around me, ignoring Judy and Finn. 

Finn has a different night of the week for homosexuals. Tonight, there are no males, except for security, and we won’t see them. Most of the time, Finn likes to take care of that sort of thing himself. 

Judy shifts closer to me as the girls ignore her, and I wrap my tail around the rabbit.

Eventually the staff realizes that I'm ignoring them, and Judy discovers one of Finn’s [and friends’] favorite conversational topics. It’s really no surprise considering the business that he owns and the sort of company he keeps. One would expect him to be knowledgeable after all.

“Could everyone stop talking about my butt?” Judy asked somewhat plaintively, a few minutes later. It’s no use, and I’m sure she’ll spend most of the evening in Finn’s office to avoid further embarrassment. 

“Get the receipt, but be careful okay?” she says to me, after Finn and his madam, a big cat, give us some space.

“Careful is for other mammals. Mammals that don’t have crazy lawyers to protect,” I replied. I noticed that she emphasized both clauses of that sentence equally, as if she wasn’t sure which was more important, or as if she changed her mind about which one might be more important, while she was saying it. 

“This place better be on fire and filled with blood and bodies before anything happens to her, Finn.”

“Yeah yeah,” he replies. He doesn’t sound serious, but he is. The security here is very good, even if you don’t see it. Also, he’s a fox, and so the police would come if he called them. Not that he does, regularly, but sometimes, after the incident is over. I’ve seen police cars around, occasionally. 

“You know I’ll fill this place with blood and bodies if you let any of the clients touch her,” I added, just before leaving. He doesn’t bother to reply, but I know he heard me. Anyway, that was mostly bravado for Judy’s benefit, as Finn knows perfectly well. 

This time I didn’t bother switching cars. One of the meeting place suggested by the reporter, and agreed to by me, was not far. I took one of Finn’s cars.

On the way, I wondered again what the reporter wants? If it’s a story, then why just ask for me? Getting me and Judy would have been possible and a better story, so she must have other motives. At least she didn’t recommend a motel! So, why not invite Judy?

I am there early, and check to make sure we’re alone. Or as much as possible anyway, because there are many places where someone might watch. They didn’t follow me, but someone might’ve followed the reporter. She’s fairly well known after all, and she was the first one to find out about Gen. Valter’s assassination earlier this week, so mammals are going to know that she would be useful to watch.

When I see, and then smell, her, I know immediately what the plan is. Short conversation, long fucking session, and then I get the receipt. A few years ago, I would definitely be more than eager. Now? I see her for what she is. Weakness. Temptation. A perfect opportunity to prove to Judy that I can’t be trusted. 

She’s wearing a hat, a jacket, and a skirt that is short enough to be scandalous, but not so short as to be completely unreasonable. The other times I’ve seen her, once at the court house and once on TV, the dress was longer. 

I keep my glasses on, so she can’t see my eyes. Scent block takes care of the olfactoral clues. 

“The mystery fox at last,” she greets me, gushing with real, or faked, enthusiasm. She’s using the ‘innocent’ persona common to certain reporters. They’re dangerous, but predictable, because they will tell others what they know, and they might add or subtract parts of the story if the truth doesn’t fit their liking. This one, pretending to be innocent, and apparently ignorant, knows how to get more information by making herself seem less dangerous. 

But I know how to deal with reporters. First, set limits to control their access to to your information in any way you can. “Ten,” I tell her. “ten questions.”

She looked surprised at first, and then, quickly, she recovered. I think she was expecting me to be more eager to see her, even after what I said during the phone call. I wonder what she knows about my own past? My days of fucking and drinking? I have to assume she knows everything.

Second, distract them. She asks a few questions, but I push her against the nearby wall, pick her up with one paw, and run the other up and down her body. It’s what she expected, and wanted, after all. Her scent changes to eagerness and excitement, and I can feel my own arousal beginning as my body responds to hers. 

“I just knew you’d be the type to just take what you wanted,” she says, tilting her muzzle back and exposing her throat. 

I just want the receipt, and so my paws find it, take it, and then drop her, before I turn to leave. 

“Oh, no you don’t. You promised me ten answers, and I haven’t asked ten questions yet,” she says, from behind me, angry now. 

This is a violation of rule three, which is to leave as soon as you have what you want. However, I did promise her ten, she had only used a few, and what harm can come of it? It’s not like I’m going to tell her anything truly useful, and if I don’t, she’ll probably just make up something. Also, I feel slightly guilty for handling her that way. 

“Fox of mystery indeed. You’ve answered these questions before, recently, so, probably from the rabbit, and so she does not know who you are either,” she says after only a few more, very basic, questions, and then she reminds me that she didn’t use all ten. 

Well, that’s some interesting inductive reasoning, and it's even partly true, but I’m not going to give her answers to any more questions, so it doesn't really matter. At least she doesn’t know my family name is Wilde! Only Bigg, Finn, and the administrator know that. 

The rabbit knows more than this reporter does, and I’m glad I’ve told Judy as much as I have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an implication here, and I've seen it in many other stories [not Firefly, however, to name one], that there are only female prostitutes, and no males. In this story, I can see why there are no foxes, but there are going to be males attracted to males and females to males. This is the last brothel in town, so it's not like the male prostitutes are somewhere else.


	12. At Finn's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick, after his meeting with the reporter, returns to Judy. They talk, and then move on toward their next meeting. This has been a busy day, and tomorrow starts promptly at midnight with a meeting with the powerful Administrator.

I don’t bother to trade cars on the way back to the brothel, so I make good time. I’m a fox and so I could speed, but I would still have to stop, if the cops saw me, and get warned, and then not ticketed, if I did speed. Talking to cops takes time and so I drive the speed limit.

‘She doesn’t know either.’ That’s what the reporter said, about Judy. It is true; she does not know very much. She knows I’m an alcoholic and that the administrator is my sister, but that makes sense, right? We’re both red foxes in the city of distinct, and separate, mammal species. She would have figured it out eventually. 

How much should I tell Judy? How much more? 

I still haven’t answered those questions when I arrive back at Wild Times. I remove my sunglasses, and put them back in my pocket before I walk in the door. Judy has very clear feelings about sunglasses indoors, and I don’t mind making this change for her. It's funny, really, the sort of things I would do for her. 

They’re all obviously glad to see me. Finn, the owner, Cat, his madam, and Judy, my… boss? I wonder what they’ve been talking about? What was Judy doing here while I was gone? I doubt she’s been out here in the common area this whole time. If for no other reason, because she was so obviously annoyed about the somewhat blatant sexuality only a few hours ago. I expect she spent most of her time in Finn’s office going over data, but I’m sure that she and Finn talked, at least a little. I told him not to tell her who I was. 

“Look who’s back!” Finn remarked from his place by Cat. “Did the reporter get the meat, or an empty stew pot?” He doesn’t look at Judy, but Cat does, and so they must realize how little this country lawyer understands about this sort of thing. She may think they’re talking about information being traded, and not sexual favors.

“Can I borrow your office?” I ask, when I am closer to Judy. 

Finn nods and so I take Judy downstairs. When we get there, I notice her scent is strong in this room, so she must’ve spent several hours here. Unfortunately, Judy soon notices the strong scent of the reporter on me. The reporter and I had been in physical contact at least a few minutes while I got the receipt, after all. 

The rabbit turned away. “Did you get the damned receipt or not?” Judy asked. Her back was straight and her ears were up, but not turned toward me. 

“Why do I even care what you do with other females? It doesn’t matter,” she says, mostly to herself. Her scent, so recently angry, is now full of hurt.

“It matters to me. The reporter came onto me, literally, and I dropped her, literally, and that’s how I got her scent on me,” I said. She turns back toward me and I push her up against the wall. 

"I want your scent on me, not hers." It sounds silly, but she lets me fondle her, so it must’ve been the right thing to say. "I've wanted to do this all week."

“You did get the receipt right?” She asks, with her muzzle inches from mine. She’s merely curious, and I'm glad she's not angry now. 

“Check your jacket pocket,” I told her, getting up and moving away. She checked and smiled. “We should go. Finn probably thinks we’re getting busy in here.”

“Right. Like I would ‘get busy’ in a whore house,” Judy replies. I’m glad she knows what that means, and also glad about the implication, and further confirmation, that we might ‘get busy’ somewhere else in the near future. 

And so, we found ourselves back in another car and headed toward another meeting. This one at midnight with the mysterious, unelected, absolute ruler of all the mammals of Zootopia, so Judy can get another puzzle piece. Judy doesn’t have a great deal of time before the trial, or the first day of it anyway, and so we’ve had a very busy week.

“Carrots,” I started to say, but hesitated. There is no going back and words said cannot be unsaid.

“Yes Nick? Are you going to tell me another tantalizing secret? Like you usually do? I know the administrator is your sister and I’ve seen the rabbit assassin that works for her. Is there anything else I should know?” She asks, looking, and smelling very satisfied. With the receipt in her possession, Otterton's freedom is nearly certain. 

“I don’t know what else you should know. That is, I know almost everything, but I’m not sure which parts you need to know,” I replied. I didn’t say anything about the fact that I didn’t like telling her any more than absolutely necessary, but she knew what I meant. I didn't want to waste her time. 

“So, what you're saying is, you'll answer my questions now?” she asked. "Any questions?" 

“Yes,” I replied, simply, remembering what the reporter said, what the reporter asked, and what the reporter learned.

The lawyer was silent a few minutes, possibly wondering how many questions she would get. “What’s that symbol on your weapons? I've seen it various places. On graffiti around the City, for example.”

Interesting choice, and not the one I expected. “It’s my family crest. The weapons I carry, the pistols and the baton, they belonged to my father. He didn’t teach me to use them, but he gave me the baton. 

"That’s why I didn’t want to loan it to you when you were searching the car. The weapon is very important to me.”

“He didn't know how to use them?" She asked, and I shook my head.

"He knew how," I replied, simply. I know my father was a killer of other mammals, and I know he had enemies. I've always assumed one of them caught up with him and mom the night they disappeared. 

"Why did your father not train you, if you have his weapons? Something terrible must’ve happened to him,” she said.

“That’s right. My sister and I are orphans. I was nine I guess, and she was younger, when it happened. Somebody broke in, and we hid.”

I meant, my sister and I hid. Judy knew this, of course. 

“Who was it? The intruder? Some enemy of your father?” She asked.

“Probably. I never did find out, and I’ve got some important underworld contacts, who also tried. Years of searching revealed nothing.”

“So, the mob probably taught you to fight... You know that kind of mammals?” She asked, sounding somewhat fascinated. This is not her world, and here I was giving her a somewhat romanticized glimpse into it. I doubt she really understands anything about that kind of life, day to day. 

“Yes, I know that kind of mammals. Mr. Bigg is a friend of mine. He took us in after we were orphaned,” I replied. 

“So, you work for the mob?” She asked, clearly trying to figure out why Mr. Bigg was interested in the outcome of this trial. 

“Not now,” I replied, quickly. "I quit years ago. Mr. Bigg had too many rules."

“Yes. With organized crime, there would be rules. I think I can understand that,” she said, nodding. 

“No, it's probably not what you're thinking. Not that kind of rules. It was more like ‘stop drinking or leave’, and so I left. Alcohol makes me stupid, and I was very stupid. One drink isn’t enough and two is too many.”

“Sorry,” she says, and puts a paw on my knee. I cover her paw with my own, and drive the rest of the way in silence. She has no further questions, but I know she’s thinking about what sort of known crimes took place about twenty years ago. When I was about nine. She’ll figure it out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sunderance updated again last week! Yes! However, the update is apparently the final court room scene, and the case is far from over. Boo Hiss! I don't know who will win, and I'm not actually sure Nick will survive. We'll see, eh? 
> 
> Also, I have updated some wording in several of the previous chapters. It's usually only a few dozen words each time. If you haven't read Chapter 1 recently, you might go back and have another look.


	13. At the Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy, Nick, Jack, and Neveen. Two rabbits, two foxes. Two males, and two females.

We arrived with a few minutes to spare, and spent a short time looking for parking before going to the visitors’ garage. I started to roll down my window, but the guard saw me, and immediately hit the button to raise the gate. I’m sure the car was also examined by various other equipment that we didn’t see, and so we parked without incident. I don’t think Judy thinks about that sort of thing at all. 

In the lobby, there was initially a problem with Judy Hopps also expecting to meet the Administrator so we waited for the guard to check with her boss and then pass us through. I admired the pictures in the lobby, and thought about the past, while we waited. 

It’s a nice building, really, and the tallest in town. I’ve been here before, with my father, a few times, but I’ve never ridden the elevator all the way to the top. My family built this thing, so I thought this would be somewhat like coming home. It was only fully completed about five years ago. 

This time, I rode the elevator up to the top floor, but I was with Judy, not my father. Today, we are just a fox and a rabbit, like any other two citizens of this city with nothing, and everything, in common. Judy says nothing, preoccupied with her upcoming interview with her host. There are many legal and ethical concerns. 

Finally, the elevator doors open, and I see my sister waiting for us, apparently alone. I expect that very few are allowed here, and there is only one lingering scent. If the rabbit assassin is here, then he must have used a different entrance. 

“Nick! You look,” the vixen starts to say and then pauses. Her posture and scent are welcoming, as I expected, but she is not as relaxed as she would like us to think. “Serious.”

Well, what did she expect? She didn’t hire me to guard Judy Hopps, but my sister must have known, at least the last several days, about my involvement. 

“It comes with the job,” I replied. I doubt this was the answer she expected, but she gives no sign of disappointment. 

“And this must be the formidable Ms. Hopps?” My sister asks, giving me a significant look. 

Right. Here I am bringing a female home to meet my remaining family and I forgot to do introductions. “Judy, this is Neveen, my sister. Neveen, this is Judy Hopps, the attorney that you hope will clear Mr. Otterton’s name,” I said, gesturing to each in turn. 

To her credit, Neveen doesn’t even blink or flick an ear in surprise, but she does look at Judy, to confirm that the rabbit wasn’t surprised by the news. Jack must have told Neveen what I said at the DMV 

“Ah, Nick. You’ve been spilling your family secrets?” Neveen asked, distancing herself, at least a little, from my claim of familiarity. 

She lead the way upward along the slight rise to the roof of the tower. Outside, we could clearly see the storm, as if the walls were transparent glass. Here, there is another scent, but it’s very faint.

“To be fair, I have to say that I already suspected some sort of family relationship. You’re both red foxes, after all," Judy said. 

The three of us walked up a curved ramp, moving closer to the center of the open space. It really was very much like some sort of planetarium.

“Most everyone tends to let him do whatever he likes,” the rabbit continued, and then gave a somewhat concise list of my activities this week. “He can be the only passenger on a specially chartered train. He can carry weapons into a courthouse and stand next to me during a presentation. He can casually leave the scene of a crime and not one police mammal will even ask about it.” 

“But one of us might be adopted,” the vixen replied, apparently amused. I saw her smirk when Judy mentioned the train. 

“Right,” Judy replied, clearly dubious. “But you’re not.”

Neveen looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Ah, Nick. What have you been saying?”

“Not all that much,” I replied. “We have discussed some of your activities, and I passed on some advice that father gave us.”

“And I should assume that’s all?” the vixen asked. 

“I told her about me. I would prefer that she learn about you from you,” I replied, and then pointed out something obvious. “As you heard, she knows that you’re my sister.” 

“What else is there?” Judy asked, as I expected. She was looking at Neveen, and probably regretting her choice of questions earlier tonight. 

“I didn’t-“ I began, but my sister cut me off. 

“I have nothing to hide,” she said. Her mask was fully back in place, as if it had never slipped at all when she saw me for the first time in decades, earlier tonight. 

“Look, it’s OK to trust me. With me, you don’t have to do this. This act you’re doing. Pretending to be some sort of unimportant functionary. Walking around with that puppet, Lionheart, and pretending that he’s telling you what to say. 

“Your practiced deliveries may fool other mammals, but to me, it’s like you’re some sort of machine.” Now, I’m sure I can smell a male rabbit. It’s faint, but he’s here, now, watching over her, as he probably does nearly all the time. I wonder how they met? 

“And you’re not putting on an act?” Neveen replied, ignoring the part about trust. “I understand that there have been many mornings that found you in an alley or a gutter, and I know that you still purchase alcohol on a regular basis.”

Her words might have indicated a certain impatient attitude on her part, and possibly a desire to get an angry denial, or pointless request for privacy, from me, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on. Her eyes are not entirely focused on me, and I know she’s getting information from Judy’s scent, just as I am. I think the Administrator is probing to see how much the lawyer knows. 

“Not like I was,” I replied. “And Judy knows about my adventures at the bottom of a wine bottle. 

“But I don’t really want to talk about that, and Judy has some questions,” I said, gesturing at the other female. My excessive alcohol intake began long after I lost contact with Neveen, after all, even if seeing her engaged in high level politics was the catalyst for my, eventual, successful attempt to stop. 

Neveen nodded and touched controls, causing three seats to appear. I waited for the females to sit and then settled into my own seat and began my visual search for Jack. He’s around somewhere. I think I hurt him the other day during the fight, but I don’t know how much. He might have a cracked rib or two, or he might be just bruised. 

“So, I’d like to start by apologizing for the reception you received in our city on your first day. It is unfortunate that some mammals can’t accept that everyone has a right to be here, in the same way that some can’t accept that Otterton is innocent,” my sister said. It didn’t sound very much like a prepared speech, but I’m sure it was. 

Neveen is acting as the Administrator now, so I suppose I might think of her as Kyubi? That’s the Administrator’s official name, and the name Jack suggested. 

“Some mammals?” Judy replied. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, but I also know that you knew exactly what would happen when you invited me, and so I’m not sure how sincere you are, now.”

“Not exactly,” the vixen replied. “Nick getting on the train, for example, was unexpected. Also, I should point out that you came to me with your request, and not the other way around.” She was, I noted, still not calling me her brother, even here with almost no one listening and me making a point to tell her everyone here knows. 

“I was sincere in my apology for the way you’ve been treated,” she concluded.

“If you think he’s innocent, why not just pardon him?” The lawyer asked, but I’m sure she had a pretty good idea about the reasoning. 

“Would it make any difference? To most mammals watching? 

“I’m an unelected tyrant. I can’t go around making decrees, apparently by whim. Sure. Pardon him. But it looks like a political move, because everything I do is political. But you? You’re outside the system, so you can be, obviously are, impartial.”

“You need to work through others,” I said to the Administrator, but my eyes were on the far side of this large room, here at the very top of the tower. My sister has the walls set on the night scene outside, but I know perfectly well that we could just as easily be looking at daylight, or a sunny beach. Jack’s suit is simply a smaller, portable, version of the same technology. 

“Any ruler must,” the vixen said. 

“I can’t very well prove Mr. Otterton is innocent if someone kills me,” Judy replied. “And don’t tell me you knew Nick would volunteer to save me. He’s already told me that he doesn’t work for you.”

Damnit. Neveen looks at me, and then back at Judy. Now, she knows who I do work for. It’s not her, and that doesn’t leave many other possibilities. Thankfully, Judy doesn’t seem to realize why it’s important. 

“The guilty party, on the council, has been punished for sending that tiger, so it’s not going to happen again,” the Administrator pointed out. “Everyone knows that you’re under my protection, now.”

“General Valter,” I said, when Judy looked at me. 

"But what about the others? That team at the DMV and the prisoners who went after Otterton?” I asked, without looking at my sister. 

“Jack helped you at the DMV, and no one had any doubt about your ability to deal with anything in the prison,” Neveen replied, shrugging. Then she looked in the direction that I was looking. “Something fascinating about the wall?”

I started to reply, but Jack interrupted me. 

“He’s looking at me,” he said, as he faded into sight. 

I caught the briefest hint of surprise in my sister’s scent, and what sounded like complete surprise in her voice. “Jack. We agreed that you didn’t need to be here. I am in no danger. Nick won't hurt me.”

The male rabbit looked at me and then nodded. He was not wearing his weapons at the moment, and I could see his bare chest, and wrapped bandages, under the holographic emitter. 

“Yes, but you’re here,” he pointed out, reasonably. “And Judy.”

Neveen spent a few seconds, apparently in thought, and then rose from her chair. “This has been interesting, but now I think Ms. Hopps needs to go and get at least a little rest, before her appointment in court later this morning.

“Unless you have more questions? For me?” The Administrator asked. We had all noticed Judy grimace when she realized what she would have to do, and how important her task was, in less than eight hours.

“I have more questions, but perhaps this is not the time for them,” Judy said. She didn’t look at me, but I knew I would be answering those questions soon. 

Neveen knew it also, and so she was silent as the three of us walked back to the elevator. Jack had faded into the background again as soon as everyone else got up. 

“Papa would like you to call him. He misses you,” I said, hugging her. 

“I don’t think contact with Mr. Bigg would be wise, at this time,” my sister said, as I released her. She had now fully stepped back into her role as the Administrator of the Ruling Council of Zootopia. 

“Watch out for the wolves,” she said, after Judy and I got on the elevator, but before the door closed. 

Right. Well, Judy has the trial, Neveen has a city to run, and Jack will be watching both her and my sister, so I suppose I should also have something to occupy my time, later today.


	14. Back at the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With only hours left before Judy must convince a judge, Judy and Nick spend some quality time together.

After the meeting, and during the elevator ride, down this time, Judy is silent. Thinking. 

I’m fairly sure I know what that means. She’s trying to figure out the best way to talk about something that I’m not going to like. 

It’s raining as we drive through the mostly vacant streets. I want to say something, anything, to get her started, so that we can be done sooner. But I have no idea what else to say. I’ve done all I could. I’ve given her plenty of chances to ask questions and I’ve done what she asked, when she asked, and I’ve never lied.

Finally, we arrive at the house on Picayune, and she exhales loudly as I start to open the door. I turn to her and try, very hard, not to sigh. “Yes?” 

“Thanks,” she says, but not loud. Her ears are down her back, and she’s leaning slightly forward in the passenger seat. Her scent does not indicate agitation, but instead a kind of weariness. “For telling me what you have so far. If you had not, and I had to learn things from others, instead of them confirming things you’ve told me, then I don’t think I could keep doing this.” 

“I-,” I start to say, and then stop as she puts a paw on my fore arm.

“I have to defend Otterson this morning… Or, later this morning, and that’s important. Far more important that our, whatever this is, but I like you, OK? And I start thinking you like me too.

“And then, there’s another secret I didn’t know!” She says, exasperated, now. 

“What else do you want to know? You met my sister. You know I know Mr. Big. You met my best friend, Finn. What else-“

She interrupted me. “Finn told me that you told him not to tell me who you were. I understand, I guess, but it’s still irritating because, apparently, you two have known each other more of less forever,” she says, and I nod. Waiting. 

“I tried to get some answers from him, and from Cat, for that matter, but they were amazingly unhelpful. About your past, anyway.” As she spoke, her scent shifted toward a sort of annoyed embarrassment, which didn’t surprise me. I can only assume Finn and Cat probably continued their instruction related to Judy’s sex education. They probably consider such a thing, as Finn would put it, something that ‘needs to happen.’

“So, Nick. I’ve been thinking, and I need to know two things. First, who are you and, second, why did you get on the train?” Judy asked. 

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you,” I replied, and we got out of the car into the rain.

And so, after a brief dash, I found myself in the house, with Judy looking at me expectantly. I spent some time taking off my jacket and arranging my gear on a convenient table. I’ve been expecting this conversation, but not this morning, right now. There are not many hours before Judy must be in court and I must also give some thought to my sister’s warning. 

“I am going to tell you a brief story. I’ll have to leave out some things because today is going to be busy,” I said, and Judy nodded, reluctantly. 

“After the trial-“ she began, but I interrupted her, knowing what she meant.

“Yes,” I said, agreeing to her terms. Later, I will have to tell her everything. 

“I am Nickolas Piberius Wilde. Growing up, I knew my father was a killer of mammals, but I thought it was normal. Mr. Bigg was, and is, a family friend, and he has some interesting ways of employee motivation.” I’m not sure how candid I can be with Judy, who is, after all, an officer of the court, so I don’t want to talk about the sort of employee disciplinary measures in which I took part. She interrupts my musing with a question that I can answer.

“Your father worked for the mob?”

“No, I understand that it was more of an alliance of convenience, at first, and then, friendship. My father trusted Mr. Big, and I’ve more or less always thought of him like a kindly uncle,” I said. I thought about adding some bird shit about never seeing him do something illegal, but I didn’t. He’s done many illegal things, but, for him, it was mostly conspiracy, not actual murder or loan sharking, leg breaking, or whatever other things his employees, like me, may or may not have done. 

“So, anyway, I promised Neveen I would protect her, and everyone else, when I was eight, and then, when I was nine, something happened and I failed. We had heard a shot and there was shouting, so my sister and I went to the safe room, as we had been told to do. Of course we didn’t wait for our parents, and of course it was only later that I remembered my promises. Promises that Neveen later told me she took very seriously indeed!

“I expected mom or dad to come and get us in an hour or two, but they didn’t. I called Big, and so he came and took Neveeen and me back to his place. 

“There, over the course of the next dozen years, I learned to fight. At 21, I learned that hard drinking would make me forget my pain, and everything else, really, at least for a short while. I spent years doing that and waking up, on any given morning, with a hangover and some vixen that I didn’t remember.”

Judy glared at me, and I shrugged. “Sorry,” I said. What else can I say? It’s the past. At least I know Finn didn’t tell Judy that I had sampled any of his employees. 

“And then, about four years ago, I realized that my sister was going to use Lionheart to gain control of the city, so I dried out, resumed my training, and let Mr. Big know that I was, more or less, OK,” I said. There was more to it than that, like my fascinating encounter, in an alley one fine morning, with Bogo, and like my current list of clients, but I didn’t want to get into that. 

“But the Wildes are supposed to be all dead,“ Judy observed, thinking. 

“Technically, missing. There has been no police report, and I know Mr. Big knows more than he’s telling. I just… don’t know what he knows. I can’t believe that he would harm my parents, but, if he didn’t, who did? If it was some enemy, why didn’t Bigg tell me, unless he really doesn’t know. 

“I know my father made many enemies. He tried to kill most of them, but… there are always survivors and some of them swear vengeance. Usually, it comes to nothing, but sometimes you have a home invasion and two scared kits hiding in a safe room.”

Judy nodded. “And the train?”

I shrugged, having hoped she would forget to ask about that, but also knowing that I would be disappointed. “A friend of the Ottertons wanted to make sure you survived long enough to clear him.” Even now, I don’t want to come right out and say I was paid, and I knew better than to talk about how the amount was far lower than my usual fee. I had intended to just stay that first day and part of the night, and then not be there the next morning. Done it before, after all, but then I realized that I actually liked her. 

An hour later, Judy is asleep and I’m outside, in the rain, checking the dead drops. No messages, but I’m not very surprised. I just talked to my sister, and Otterton’s friends haven’t had anything else to say since the visit to the jail, when I got what amounted to a thank you note. That time, I had left them a message: “HE’S TIRED. BUT UNHARMED.” 

I’ve already checked the house for listening devices, again, and found several, again. I never tell Judy when that happens… I can only think it would cause her unnecessary worry. She can’t do anything about it, after all, and I know, every time we leave, that a team will be in our house installing more bugs as soon as we’re far enough away. 

I find the rain, and the regular sound of it, fairly comforting, and so I stay out longer than I need to. If Judy asks, I’ll just say I was checking the perimeter or something. 

Around 3 AM, she comes out, in a hurry, in her night clothes. My first thought is, “how did something get in past me?” Then she hugs me, with no attempt to get behind me, and I realize she’s not in danger. 

“Let’s go back in, OK? You’re not exactly dressed for this sort of weather,” I said. She does not reply, but walks back into the house ahead of me. Her t-shirt and briefs are not as soaked as my own clothes, but I’m fairly sure she’ll want something dry before she goes back to sleep. 

I went to get her a towel, conscious of my wet paw prints on the floor. When I turned back around, she had a surprise for me. 

She had taken off her shirt, and she dropped it next to her on the floor. Then the briefs, as well, when she pushed them down around one ankle, lifted that leg, and plucked the small garment off that leg and dropped it on the shirt. I could see every inch of her now nude body and I could very clearly smell her wet clothes, but I don’t smell the sort of “come get me” signal that I expected. 

She said, “I want you in bed with me, and our clothes are wet.”

I could see that, of course. I also noticed that she said “in bed with me” and nothing about having sex. I watched her, and waited to see what she would do next. 

She started taking my clothes off and we talked, as if nothing too unusual was going on. 

“Our clothes are wet,” she said, again, unnecessarily explaining why she was removing mine. 

“Yes, you said that,” I replied, as she fiddled with my belt buckle. Her scent is determined, and just a little embarrassed. She's not aroused. 

“I don’t want to be distracted. You know, during,” she said, talking about the trial. She means she doesn’t want to be thinking about what she should have done, now, and so, she’s actually doing it. I can’t say I mind. 

“I can guarantee that you won’t be distracted, during,” I replied, to see how she would reply. I’ve never had a partner complain about my performance, after all, and I’m somewhat proud of that fact. “During the trial, of course.”

“No more jokes from you until morning, Mr. Fox,” she said, having divested me of the last of my clothes, my boxer shorts. She gestured toward the bedroom, and so I proceeded her to the bed, and lay down on my side, looking at her in the doorway. 

She turns off the light, hesitates, briefly, and then lays in front of me on the bed, but not touching, facing away. I probably should have made room for her to sleep behind me, in the “big spoon” position, but I’m larger, and so I took the location closer to the wall. 

I wait, a short eternity, for her to say something more, but she does not. I put my arm around her chest and draw her closer to me, and whisper, “good night, carrots.” 

Soon, her breathing, and then mine, goes steady, and we sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These scenes are also different. Part of that is the way I'm telling the story from only one point of view, and so I have to fill in information by letting the reader hear thoughts, but there is also my own preferences related to they way the scenes played out.
> 
> For example, there is some indication that everything Judy and Nick do is recorded, or everything in the main room at least, but I started thinking that would be just a little too creepy here.


	15. To the Courthouse and then an Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near the end now, Nick sees something and investigates after dropping Judy off at the courthouse.

I’m dreaming. I know I am, but I can’t seem to wake up. Not that I want to, of course.

Judy won her case, and she’s running toward me. Then, I’ve been hurt by the wolves, so Bogo has to toss me into an ambulance, in the rain. Judy joins me and we’re kissing, still in the ambulance, as the medical technician ignores us. They close the doors and we start toward the hospital, but now I’m actually lying on the stretcher, and Judy is on top of me. She lays down beside me, our clothes vanish, and –

I open my eyes, just a little. The storm outside, is over. I am still at the home office on Picayune, in Judy’s bed, but now I’m alone, and not yet entirely awake. Judy’s scent is strong, so she is nearby, but I can’t see her without moving my head, which I do not wish to do because it’ll mean I have to get up. I can hear her, so I close my eyes again. She’s rehearsing for the trial in what must be only a few, or a couple of, hours. 

“These three items. Character, location, and an attack on justice. These three things. He was at the gas station. No, not yet. With these three….”

There is a kind of change in the air, warmer, and so I know she’s near the bed. She puts a paw on my arm and says my name, “Nick?”

In response, I roll over, grab her, and pull her close to me, again. I’ve found that I miss having her near. Initially, she’s tense, but then relaxes. She’s wearing her lawyer suit. 

“You have to get up and get dressed,” she reminds me. I’ve got my paw on her rear, again, and I’m waiting for her to say something about that. 

“You woke up before me?” I ask her, instead of asking what time it is. “I didn’t hear an alarm.”

“I don’t need an alarm. I’ve got you,” she replies, evasively. Now, her scent is embarrassed. 

Ah. So that dream was not entirely unrealistic. “Sorry about that.”

She just smiles. “You need to get ready. And you need to take your paw off my butt.”

“Spoilsport,” I reply. But I do get up and head for the bathroom to shower. “I can be ready in 15 minutes.”

“You can take 20 if you like,” she replies. She sounds distracted, and I hope it’s because she’s liking the nude fox she sees in her bedroom. I want to show off, for her, but I don’t. We had our fun last night. Now, it’s time to get ready for work. 

Twenty-five minutes later, we’re on our way to the courthouse. There were no reporters in front of our house, which was nice, but I notice them out in force near the court house. Judy notices me circle the building, but makes no comment about that when I drop her off by the steps. Not far from where she was nearly killed last week. 

Officer Clawhauser meets us, and I unlock the doors so he can open the passenger side door for Judy. 

“I’m sorry, but only Ms. Hopps will be allowed in the courtroom this time,” the cheetah cop says. He sounds, and smells, very sincere. “Don’t worry. There are plenty of officers here. No one will try anything, or if they do, you won’t be harmed.”

“Nick-“ Judy starts to say, but I interrupt.

“Go. Be the super bunny lawyer. If I thought there was any danger, I would go with you. Anyway, the Administrator is here, and we both know what sort of protection she has, right?” I ask, and Judy nods, and gets out of the car. 

“I’ll be here, waiting, when you’re done,” I remind her before she follows Clawhauser up the steps

She goes into the building, and I restart the car. I can’t actually wait here, after all, and so I would have to move to find a place to put the car, at least for the next several hours. In any case, there is an alley across the street that I need to check out. I saw a couple of wolves when we drove by earlier. 

In the alley, I park the car, and I know I’ve picked the right location as soon as I get out. The scents are relatively clear. Four wolves were here, and at least two of them are still here, hiding from sight. 

“You might as well come out,” I said, staying by the armored door of my car. I have a paw on one of my pistols, but I don’t draw. I really don’t want a shoot out this close to the court house, after all, and at least one of them probably has a rifle. I don’t really know how many of them there are.

“I told you he saw us,” one the wolves says, as two of them emerge from hiding. Both have swords. The speaker is more grey than the other, which is more white. 

“Where are the others? Planning to make a suicidal charge across the street, in the open, and die in a hail of gunfire?” I asked, as another wolf, and then another and another, makes an appearance. 

“No,” one of them says. “We were thinking of taking you out of play, instead. Not from hiding, with a rifle, but honorably, with steel, muzzle to muzzle.”

“OK,” I replied, and took my paw off the butt of my pistol. I really have no idea what else to say. I thought about taking off the jacket and weapons harness, and putting the whole thing, minus the baton, back in the car, but I don’t. There are more of them, so I need to pace myself, and show them only what I want them to see, when I want them to see it, and I may need the pistol at some point.

Their side of the alley is crowded with wolves, and my side is crowded with my car, behind me. The geometry of this will be simple. They can’t all five rush me, and we’ve agreed not to shoot it out, so it’ll be two of them, twice, against me, and then their leader, one of one, last. They’ve all got swords the size of their forearms, and I’ve got my baton, the size of my, smaller, forearm.

And, of course, they’re all larger than me, with correspondingly greater reach. I’ll have to get inside those reaches to hurt them, but they don’t have to get as close to hurt me. If this was a game, someone might say it wasn’t fair. 

“We were surprised,” the grey wolf says. I know he’s not the pack leader, or “alpha”, but he’s the spokes mammal. I expected that they’ve been planning this, and Grey’s next words confirm it. “Surprised that you came out of hiding to protect a rabbit. But, protect her you do, and so, we will remove you.”

I don’t bother to reply, and so he continues, “we’ve studied your fighting skills.”

“Who do you think I am?” I ask, as the grey one draws his sword, and then advances, alone. The others, behind him, all draw their own weapons. I’ve already drawn my weapon, but I don’t mind saying that I’d rather have a big knife instead. I probably can’t use one of theirs. 

“Why, you’re the Ghost,” Grey answers, as if it were obvious. “I didn’t expect to actually have this opportunity to match my skills against yours. I don’t think we’ll get to talk later-“

What the heck is this? He’s acting like he admires me, but then, he doesn’t even know who I am. “Don’t be so quick to judge. I am not the Ghost. It’s a mistake others have made, so I’ll let it pass.”

His eyes shift, just a bit, with that sentence, and so I continue, “this time.” And then, I attack. 

Grey wasn’t as easy to defeat as I expected, but I did win, eventually.

I could not tell, initially, how good he was. I knew I needed to hold back, at least at first, because the reasonable move for their pack alpha would be to send a sacrificial pawn, and then watch me as I cut him down. I can't show the others too much, and must save a few tricks for the next one and the one after that. 

This one, like many of the others, was right handed. He started out with his paws close together on the hilt of his sword, a simple hand and a half arming sword, like the others, but too big for me. He tried to circle to my right, but I did not move, and so he stopped as well. I can’t let them behind me. He shifted his grip several times before he finally attacked, and I had the impression that he was disappointed that I didn't bother to mirror him. 

I had expected the first one to be a sacrificial pawn, and not their best. For this mistake, I nearly died. They knew I would expect a pawn, and so, they sent a master. 

He had just executed his first slash, from my left, as expected, and I had leaned back, as he knew I would. I was leaning forward to strike when his blade stopped near by right shoulder, came back in, and he flicked his wrist, severing my tie. Had I been less lucky, that could easily have been the front of my neck, and it would have been, had he leaned into the kill. Had he been more confident. But he knew I was holding back, and he knew he didn’t have to hold back, but he wasn’t sure if this opening was a feint. Apparently, he did admire me, but now he probably doesn’t admire me as much. 

Killing my tie showed him that my move was no feint, but then it was too late for him to take the kill. The fight continued. 

I waited, and didn’t increase my speed, not until he hit me twice more, drawing blood. Then, I lured his blade low as I prepared to jump, but pretended to jump not quite high enough, and so he tried to take out my knees. Instead, I jumped over his weapon, as he paused in the swing, as he had done before, and so I landed on his blade when I came back down, stripping it from his paw. His eyes went wide then, in shock, as he saw my baton coming, and I’m sure he expected to die. Instead, I merely knocked him out. Or I think I did. It’s hard to tell with a concussion, but I can say I didn’t hear his skull crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They appear to have ended Sunderance on DeviantArt. And then... I read it yesterday [November 8, 2020], and it's not over. They just have a different illustrator. 
> 
> I still plan to catch my story up to the one they're doing, and then? We'll see.


	16. Fighting in the Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Near the end, now. Nick fights for his life outside the courthouse, not knowing if Judy won or lost her case to prove Otterton's innocence.

At this point, I should probably explain why I’m still alive. 

It’s not at all like the movies, which usually have a careful choreograph. I move, then you move, and then that other guy moves, then I move again…. The idea is to make it look exciting, from certain angles, like anyone could get cut at any time, but not actually cut anyone. After all, these same actors and or stunt mammals need to be able to act in the next scene, and the next. 

When you’re doing it in real time? You don’t know where your opponents’ weapon(s) will be, and you don’t know where your friends, or their weapons, will be, or were, or are. You can’t actually see everything, not without a great deal of practice, and these wolves never fought me, so they never practiced something quite like this. 

So, how do you fight, with a baton, against multiple, larger, swords mammals, one or two at a time? 

The short answer, for me, is that I have to be a great deal faster than my opponents, I have to be a great deal better at this sort of thing, and I have to take full advantage of my size. My opponents are not aiming for my baton, of course, but I can make sure they hit it, instead of me. 

They’re attacking, of course, and using the sharp edges of their weapons, which are more brittle, so I’m also wearing down the edges of their weapons. Not enough to matter, maybe, but, still. You take what you can get and we all have to put some force into our moves to make the weapons go fast enough to do damage. 

The second one rushes me, and the third one is right behind him. They take a moment to get sorted out, probably having expected their friend, the first one, who is a far better combatant, to have already cut me into two or more pieces. I can, and I do, use that hesitation, as I hit a button on my baton and let it extend to full length, which surprise the first one enough that I can break his wrist, which forces him to drop his weapon. The third one freezes, and so I drive one end of my baton into his chest. I’ve got the spring active, and so my weapon shrinks down to its original length in my paw and only cracks ribs instead of punching through skin, and into the wolf’s chest. 

He’s still out of the fight, however, gasping for breath, and so I simply push him away and he falls. The one with the broken wrist just glares at me, having dropped his weapon, so I gesture. He picks up his sword, awkwardly, in his other paw, and retreats to the other side of the alley. 

It was at this point, with most of my enemies down or disabled, that I noticed Jack watching from a nearby rooftop, and I felt more than a little annoyed. I also felt tired from my exertions and light headed from blood loss. Let’s not forget those! 

Is Jack just going to watch or will he lend a paw? He sees me watching him, and ducks back, away from the edge of the roof. Yep, looks like I’m doing this alone. Little bunny bastard. 

There are only two of them left in fighting condition, and one of them, the alpha, is furious. “Don’t make me have to finish this contract myself! You’re embarrassing me!” He ranted at them. I expect working for this mammal must have been seven kinds of fun. 

The one that is not the alpha charges, and we trade blows. I win, eventually, because this wolf has seen my beat his friends, and he knows he’s not as good as they were. But now, I’m even more tired. 

Only one wolf remains, but now, I can barely stand. I haven’t lost a great deal of blood, but I have lost some and I am pushing myself far more than I’ve had to do in the past and I am bleeding. I’m thirsty, and my baton feels like it weighs a ton. 

The alpha takes a weapon from one of his employees, the one with the broken wrist, and so now their best fighter has two swords. Both the same length. One held with the pommel high, above his head, the other low, below his waist, and both pointed at me. There is no quiver in the blades when he does this, and I can see he’s going to have no problem using them, one after the other, or, maybe he’ll start with both at the same time? Blocking two, with my one baton, would be nearly impossible, but no mammal can fight effectively with two swords, as if they’re two mammals. 

“Fine. I’ll do it myself. And when I’m done with you, I’ll kill the real Ghost, Yurei, myself,” the Alpha says. “He’ll hear about the fight and be curious. He’ll come out and I’ll get him.“ 

“Sure you will,” I replied, trying to get my strength, or some of it, back, but I can feel myself having been weakened. Fatigue toxins have been building in my blood , but I can’t think about that right now. “Want to tell me more about your evil plan? What will you say to the Ghost?”

“Crazy like a fox, eh?” He replies. “I’ve been letting you catch your breath on purpose. I don’t want it said later that I had taken advantage of you.”

I doubt that. And advantages? Like making me fight four goons while you watched? Something like that? “You have no honor,” I tell him, just to get under his fur. No reason, now, not to make him more angry, and maybe he’ll do something rash. 

“Honor?” He replies. I still can’t smell him due to his scent block, but I can see his amusement by the set of his ears and his tone of voice. “Honor pays no bills. Honor-“

“Let’s you sleep at night?” I ask. 

“I sleep fine, thanks,” he replies, but I’ve given him an opening and he uses it. “I’ll be sleeping with the bunny after. After I take you head. Maybe I’ll show her-”

One thing saves me from getting impaled as I respond to the wolf's taunt. Jack has finally decided to get involved. 

“Boss!” the one with the broken wrist shouts, pointing at a shadow, now moving and detached from one wall of the alley at their end. The low blade that might have gone through my belly misses its mark, and both the wolf and I stop, and he backs away before turning just enough to look for this new threat. 

Jack is doing that hologram thing, of course. Would have saved me some pain if he had arrived sooner. “Took you long enough,” I muttered to myself. The rabbit makes no sound. 

“Don’t look now, but I’m thinking someone heard you. There he is,” I said to the alpha wolf, and gestured while he tried to watch both of us. 

I admit that I was expecting some sort of epic duel, having now fought both of them, even if only very briefly. They were both fast, but the wolf would be entirely unable to determine a pattern to Jack’s attacks, Jack is smaller, and I can’t see what, if anything, he’s got in his paws. Probably that sword I saw on his back at the DMV 

The alpha had been watching, and expecting to fight, me. A nearly invisible bunny, that his opponent doesn’t even know IS a bunny, is going to be an entirely different kind of a challenge. 

Jack would draw first blood, and then second, as well, as the wolf retreated, fighting defensively, at first. 

His opponent, unlike me, probably had some experience fighting holograms. He might use his first break in the action to activate some sort of counter to the hologram. 

Jack would be familiar with this strategy, of course, and so the fight would probably continue.

I was, however, disappointed. One side of the hologram, probably an arm, moved, and then there was a sound I’d heard many times before. A bullet moving very fast, but not faster than sound. It hit the alpha between the eyes and the wolf fell like that tiger fell, earlier this week. 

If Jack was still injured from our last encounter, it wasn’t apparent.

I expected Jack to say something like “you never had a chance,” but the rabbit said nothing. Instead, he walked over to me and stood there while I passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have more differences between my version and Sunderance. This is my version, and I wanted Jack to be in the final fight, and so, he is. If you don't like it? Write your own. But I hope you liked his "Indiana Jones" style here.
> 
> If you read Sunderance, you know that Judy won, of course. My story, using only Nick's point of view, won't have that information until the next, and probably final, chapter.


	17. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how to determine the winner of a knife fight? The winner is the one in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Nick is kind of high, here. Not having had much experience with that sort of thing, myself, I wrote it the best I could.

I’m not in the alley anymore. I’m in a bed. I can see a small TV showing some story or other about an Otter on the other side of the room, with no sound. I can’t see Judy, but her scent is stronger than the other, antiseptic, smell. 

Looking up, I see ceiling tiles and cheap lighting. I count the tiles, and then spend some time staring at the TV 

Am I dreaming? I’m mostly under a blanket, and not wearing pants. I think I’m dreaming.

Judy comes in, through a door to my right, and she pauses when she sees me. “Nick? How long have you been awake?” Her ears are up and she’s wearing a suit. 

“I’m not sure. What day is this?” I ask, and she laughs. It’s a nice sound.

“They brought you in earlier today and stitched you up,” she said, gesturing to the TV for some reason. “I finished at court and your sister told me where I could find you.”

My tail started wagging, under the blanket, and so I moved the covering to look. Yep, it was wagging, so I just stared at it. “It doesn’t usually do that.”

Judy cleared her throat, and gestured. “Nick? You’re, um, what are you doing?”

“What?” I asked, and then I realized what she meant. “I’m pretty sure I had pants on when… That is, during the fight. 

I looked around. My pants are not nearby, so I covered myself with the blanket again, and went back to staring at the foot of the bed, and then the TV. 

“Wow, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?” Judy asked, and took something out of one of her pockets. I nodded. 

The pictures on the TV are somewhat distracting and I’m having a hard time not looking at them. 

“So, Nick, Mr. Otterton is free,” she said, gesturing to the TV. “I also won, but the prosecutor wasn’t actually trying to kill me. And there was only one other attorney.

"Not trying to kill you?" I asked, confused now. What was she talking about? 

“We fight with these,” she said, and showed me what was in her hand. 

“It doesn’t look very big,” I replied. She was holding some sort of writing instrument. I don't use them. 

“There was a bunny,” I continued, looking at the TV again, which was still showing the otter. Otterton. “He shot the last one. Bang! Right between the eyes! No, wait, not so much 'bang', most of a kind of... thump?” 

“Bogo told me what must have happened, but he didn’t mention that,” she replied, and then moved a little closer to me. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“You’ve got a nice ass,” I observe. “I can’t believe you know that already. I mean, it’s not like you can see it. Maybe a mirror…” 

“Thanks, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” she replied. 

“You know I love you,” I told her, nodding. “And I know you love me.” Is that right?

She was silent and I went back to staring at the TV. 

“Have you killed anyone?” She asked, but continued before I could say yes. “No, I withdraw the question.” 

I wasn’t sure how to reply to the lawyer talk, so she said, “Don’t answer that. 

“You said you contacted me because a friend of Otterton’s paid you?” She asked instead. 

“Yes. I was also curious. The amount was only enough for one day, and so, at first, I planned to not meet you. Later, I thought I would simply leave during the first night.”

“Why did you stay?” Her voice, and scent were more harsh now, more serious. 

“You’re so pretty,” I said. “Your eyes kind of light up when you talk. You’re so passionate about things. Things I’ve forgotten about.”

Then I paused again when I noticed her scent change toward a kind of pity. “I said that?”

“And?” She prompted. “You were saying they paid you.”

I shrugged. “They gave me a retainer, a tiny amount, weeks ago, and so I was going to pick up your trail at the train station, when you, and your friends, got off the train. 

“Then, I would follow until there was trouble, and I would intervene, sending a clear message. As a fox, I can do that sort of thing,” I was saying, or I think I was. This sort of thing would normally just be something I thought, but didn’t say. Now, I was saying it. Odd.

“What changed?” Judy asked. She had waited until I finished my thought, as if she could hear it. 

“No one came with you! I knew, deep down, that it would happen that way, but I thought you wouldn’t come alone. It would be irrational. I would not have because, a cause like that, it has to be shared by more than just me, and few believe in it. It's not good to get attached to things like that.” I said, and shrugged. “You end up getting hurt.”

“Why did you meet me on the train?” She asked. Her scent was slightly sad, and, again, I didn't know why. 

“For the contract, initially,” I replied, trying to control myself, and not tell her about my brilliant plans to show you my place and my bed. 

“Focus, Nick. We can talk about your plans later,” Judy said, slightly annoyed. 

“A friend of Otterton’s gave me a retainer, and told me to help you, in any way I could. I agreed. This was several weeks before the trial,” I said. I really don’t care who it was. 

“I thought you would quietly give up. Maybe you would come to the city, but then not show up at trial? But now I know you wouldn’t do that. I knew there would be no reporters to greet you when you got off the train.”

She frowned at this irrelevancy, so I continued. “But you came anyway.”

“And you tried to tell me not to,” the rabbit observed. 

“Not at first. I didn’t say that on the phone,” I replied. That wasn’t quite right, so I continued. 

“I thought you would be more desperate. You would have to listen to me.

“I was trying to help you see reason. I know that was stupid, now, but at the time, I thought…. Maybe you just don’t know any better? Before we met, I didn’t think you would have a weapon, for that matter. But, you shot Weaselton! Zap!” I found this memory to be hilarious, but Judy didn’t laugh or even smile. 

“What if I had not been there to put him back in his car?” I continued, mouth moving on its own. 

“But I was there. I could not do nothing,” I concluded, and smiled, knowing that I had done the right thing because now her sent was happier.

“I’m awfully chatty today. Why?” I said, mostly to myself. At least my tail has stopped moving.

“It’s the drugs,” Judy replied. 

“Drugs? No, I’m dreaming. Or I thought I was dreaming,” I replied, but my eyelids were getting heavy again and the room was going dark. But it was the middle of the day, a moment ago. 

“Please don’t leave me,” I said, just before drifting back off.

“I won’t,” I heard.

I woke up and looked around. Looks, and smells, like a hospital room, and I was not alone. Door on the right, windows on the left. Dark outside. I’m not sure what floor this is, but it doesn’t really matter because I have no intention of jumping through any windows right at the moment. I was not paw cuffed to the bed, so that was good news. I could not see Judy, but I was pretty sure she is not far away. 

I remember dreaming about being in this room, with Judy. We talked and I told her….

I put an arm across my eyes. Oh, gods, now she’s going to think I’m some sort of drug addled pervert. 

I caught movement to my right and her scent got stronger as she re-entered the room. 

“Good morning. Sleep well?” She asked. She found a rabbit suitable chair by my bed and sat down. 

She must have noticed me looking at my wrists, instead of meeting her eyes, because she added, “Bogo told me that he was told that you were not to be charged for anything that happened in the alley.” 

“Did I-“ I started to say, and Judy thought she knew what I meant. 

“Only that one wolf was killed, with a gun. I assume you disabled the others with your baton?” She said. 

“Yeah. That was Jack,” I replied, and she nodded, like she already knew that. So, Jack decided not to put the others down. Very merciful of him, I suppose. Or maybe he just didn’t want to spend the effort. 

She had misunderstood what I meant earlier, so I tried again. “About what I said, or may have said….” I started to say, but didn’t know how to continue. I don’t actually remember much of it, but I do remember talking to her, and, apparently, commenting on her butt. 

“What about it? Do you think you said anything silly? In fact, you mostly just mumbled, and I understood very little of it,” she said. Her scent was now sincere, but I didn’t believe her. In fact, she smells like she did when talking to Lionheart.

“Well, that’s a relief.,” I said, pretending to believe her. It was a wasted effort. 

Judy nodded, and took a recorder pen out of her pocket. “Do you know what this is?”

I tried to grab it, but she was too far away, and she hit the button before I could stop her. “You know I love you, and I know you love me,” my recorded voice said, before she hit the button again. 

I settled back in the bed when I realized I could not reach her. “That was sneaky.”

“Want to hear the rest of it?” She asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it. In "Sunderance", Nick doesn't end up in the hospital, of course, but I didn't think that was very realistic. Also, I wanted to put in at least one throwback to Zootopia and I wanted Nick to be, for once, entirely open and honest with Judy. In "Sunderance", Judy finally makes him tell her more or less everything the morning before the trial; in my version, Nick tells Judy clues a few at a time, starting on the train, to keep her interested. Also, in my version, there is more information about why, exactly, Nick was on the train.

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be an homage to Sunderance, which may also be found in the Zootopia ["movies"] section of AO3. Go, and read it! It's quite good and there's a comic as well..... 
> 
> So, I started working on this version in late 2019, while waiting [and waiting and waiting!] for the next Sunderance story update. I was then amusing myself wondering why this or that happened, and how Nick or Judy might have responded differently, and what to do if there were no more updates.


End file.
